When it comes to kissing, practice makes perfect
by SugaryLaces
Summary: It's Summer. Patch and Nora decide to go on a long road trip. And, well, like it says in the title, when it comes to kissing, practice makes perfect.
1. Chapter 1

**Ah, hello! So I got this idea while I was doing a geography test today, and then thought more about it during my English test (haha, I excel at school.. *sarcasm* XD) **

**It's just a short story. It mightn't have a huge, twisty plot. I'm thinking it's just gonna be little things that Nora and Patch do together on their road trip. Get me? :)**

**Anyways, I would really, really appreciate if you could read and leave a review. I love them. XD And thank you so much even for reading it xx :D**

**enjoy! :) x**

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><p><strong>Nora's Point of View<strong>

The teacher's forehead glistened with sweat. He waved his hands madly and his lips went one hundred miles per hour, in an effort to spew out the necessary instructions for next term. I blocked him out, and glared venomously at the slow moving clock. I was sure it was chugging along lethargically just to mock and antagonise me.

"And we will return to our Shakespearean studies!" the teacher announced, swiping a hand across his face and casting a nervous glance to the clock. My shoulders drooped. Great! Just great.

"Think about it, babe," Vee whispered hungrily from my side. A large smile spread over her face. "We have a whole summer to worry about before we need to think about stupid Shakespeare." She prodded me in the arm with the back of her pencil.

"Vee!" the teacher snapped, turning his attention to our table. I bit my lip. Vee rolled her eyes and faced the teacher with a sweet smile. "Yes, Sir?"

"School is still in session! I expect you to lis-"

His nasally voice was swallowed by the sudden explosion of the school bell. Vee's grin was more than victorious. "See ya after summer, Sir," she chirped happily, gripping my arm and pulling me from the room behind her before he could begin rattling off again.

_Summer_, _party, hot, _and _vacation _were all words sizzling in the hallways. Faces were bright with excitement and infectious laughter was heard loud and proud. "Can you believe it?" Vee squealed in a sing-song voice. "It's _Summer_!"

"I know, I got the memo, Vee," I replied, giving her a small smile. If I was being honest, I would've told her that I wasn't excited for Summer. Summer meant lonely nights in the Farmhouse, pining for human conversation, and regretting my earlier decision to skip the party Vee wanted to drag me to. It meant locking and relocking every door and window, because I was paranoid. And it meant curling in bed alone, reliving last Summer; fighting with Patch, almost dying more than once, and learning about Scott and the strings attached to that whole scenario. Patch would no doubt be willing to hang out with me, but I refused to become the clingy girlfriend and annoy him every second of every day.

Unable to notice my discomfort, Vee wrapped her arm around my shoulder. "We're gonna have so much fun," she said excitedly, her eyes sparkled. I plastered on a grin to match hers and followed her to the lockers. "What're we doing tonight?" I asked curiously, holding out my arms as she piled the remainder of her books on top of me.

"Um, babe," Vee smiled sympathetically and threw the last book into my arms. "I have to go out with my Mom tonight, got dragged into it." She rolled her eyes and slammed the locker. "We can hang out tomorrow though?" she suggested, sending me a sideways grin and waggling her eyebrows.

"Sure," I agreed. I could survive one night in the Farmhouse alone. "Great," she nodded, and we both headed into the car park. Vee gave me a lift home, swore to call me later, and then left.

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><p>I tackled the house. Before my Mom had last left, she begged me to clean the house and make it look pretty. So that's exactly what I did. And after two hours of cleaning, I was tired, sweaty, and the shower appealed to me like a hot meal to a starving child would.<p>

"Nora, hey sweetheart." My Mom said once I answered the phone. "Hey, Mom," I answered, scrunching my damp hair roughly with one hand while clutching the phone to my ear with the other. "How was school?" she wondered. "Fine," I replied quickly, not bothered enough to make small talk. "That's good," she said, "Have you done your homework?"

"Mom," I answered slowly, "It's Summer."

"Oh," she sighed, "Oh, yes. Sorry, Nora."

"It's okay, Mom. I gotta go. Bye." I flipped the phone shut and ignored the little squeaks of protest my Mother made. I was mad at her, she was away from home way more than she needed to, for many more reasons other than work. She was going to have to deal with my bitchiness. I pulled on jean shorts, high top converse, a blue tank top and settled into the couch with ice cold lemonade.

A quiet noise from the hallway called my attention. I froze, cup of lemonade halfway to my lips, and listened. The second squeak had my knees in my chest and I hid my face in my lap, squeezing my eyes shut tight. The living room door groaned on its hinges, and I peeked through my laced fingers. It blew open and I caught a glimpse of dark jeans.

"Boo," came a breezy voice.

"Patch!" With a puff of relieved breath sliding through my lips, I jumped from the couch at the sound of his soft voice. He was dressed in dark blue jeans, motorcycle boots, and a snug black t-shirt. "Angel," he greeted silkily, inclining his dark head and opening his arms. I locked my arms around his middle. "I missed you," I blurted into his chest. He wrapped his arms around me in turn and my tummy filled with warmth. I felt instantly comforted and safe.

"Did you now?"

"Yep," I answered, curling impossible closer to his solid form. He chuckled and pressed his face into my hair. "Well, that makes two of us," he whispered. I felt a content grin slip onto my face, and just as I was about to pull away slightly to reach his lips, he tilted backwards. My feet dangled inches above the floor. "Patch!" I whined, jerking away and gripping his shoulders. "Let me down!"

His smoky eyes twinkled with amusement, and his lips curved into a confident smirk. "Nah," he said breezily, tightening his hold. "I like this." I squirmed but he was way too strong to even be fazed. "Please let me down?" I asked quietly, beckoning to his sweeter side. He shook his head adamantly and tiptoed one hand from my back to my thigh. I squealed in surprise and he burst into a triumphant grin.

"I'm going to hold you hostage, Angel," he murmured into my ear. I chewed my bottom lip, unsure if liking that statement was deemed inappropriate or not. I could only see one option; distract him. And there was only one way to tear his focus from holding onto me while I was hanging in the air like this.

I flattened my palms to his cheeks and coaxed his face up from my neck. He stared warmly at me, curiosity sprinkled in his eyes, with one eyebrow raised. The look sent a trickle of electricity down my spine. I ran my fingertips along his cheekbones and then leant in close to him. His breath tickled my cheeks, and if I looked up, my eyelashes would touch his. "I don't think I could survive being your hostage," I said sadly, lifting a shoulder and dropping it. He pouted and I licked my lips. "That's too bad," he mumbled, eyes flashing with something similar to hunger. Just like I thought they would- he was eating from my hands. "Pity," I sighed, moving in and pausing a beat from his lips.

"Pity," he agreed incoherently, dissolving the distance and pressing his lips to mine. He sighed thirstily into my mouth and I slid my hands from his shoulders, to his neck, and finally to tangle in his inky hair. He shifted beneath me and loosened his grip. My feet grazed the floor, and with a little tug to his hair, he moaned and let me down completely.

Triumphant, I smiled against his lips and he replied by pressing his fingers to my lower back and pulling me closer. "But you'd be a great hostage, Angel," he breathed, his voice was thick with amusement and lust, and sent butterflies ricocheting through my body. I pushed gently and he sat onto the couch. Leaning forward, I took his face in my hands and the glimmer of a smile graced his attractive lips.

I placed a kiss to the spot below his ear and whispered, "Too bad you let go then, Patch." Removing my hands from him, I stepped back. The sound he made matched one like a quiet growl and he grabbed me around the waist before I could twirl away. "Teasing isn't nice, Angel," he said, mock disappointment clouding his eyes as he pulled me down next to him. "Yeah, it's funny though," I said, laughing and curling into his side. He slung an arm over my shoulders and moved my legs to lay them across his lap. "I guess it is," he said after a moment, a light smile playing on his lips. I snuggled my face into the crook of his neck and breathed in his comforting aura while he meandered his fingers and traced invisible drawings along the bare skin of my thighs.

After a long, comfortable moment, he spoke, "So what are your plans for Summer?" I shrugged and lifted my head from him. He tucked a curl behind my ear tenderly. "I don't really like Summer," I admitted with a grimace. He frowned. "How can you not like Summer?" he asked.

"I'll be all alone."

"I'll annoy you," he said, shooting me a wink. "Don't worry." I sighed, and every ounce of trepidation in regards to the long three months ahead of me evaporated. He wanted to spend time with me. Lacing my arms loosely around his neck, I scooted closer. "I love you," I said, kissing him on the cheek and then moving to his lips. A groan hummed deep in his throat and I giggled.

Twenty minutes later, he pulled away. My breath came in ragged pants and he stroked the backs of his fingers along my flushed cheek. "Want to do something?" he questioned, suggestively quirking an eyebrow at me.

"Anything," I mumbled instantly, already drawing him nearer once more. He stopped me. I frowned. He picked up my hand, kissed my fingers and then pinned me with his seductive gaze. "Come on a road trip with me?"

I grinned and threw my arms around him. "Hell yeah!"

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><p><strong>Patch's Point of View<strong>

"Are you ready yet, Angel?" I asked, nudging open Nora's bedroom door with the toe of my shoe. She had her back to me, bent over a dark purple suitcase on her hands and knees. "Almost," she said, looking over her shoulder and giving me one of her killer smiles. I felt myself smile back and moved inside her room.

"Where are we going anyway?" she wondered, tossing curls away from her face with a shake of her head and zipping the bag closed. "Surprise," I shrugged, sitting on the edge of her bed. She rolled her eyes and stood up. "Give me a hint," she said in a pleading voice, one hand on her hip. "Nah," I replied, winking an eye at her. She walked closer and frowned in thought. "Did you plan this?" she questioned, raising an eyebrow.

I snatched her by the waist and pulled her down on top of me on the bed. "You did," she gasped, sinking her hands into the blankets on either side of my head. Her eyes twinkled with amusement. I cupped her face and stroked stray hair from her cheeks. "Maybe I did, Angel, maybe I didn't," I answered, pressing a kiss to her temple and then pulling us into a standing position. She hung her head and shook it gently.

"Let's go then," I smirked, reaching out to tilt her face towards me again, and tracing the side of it with my fingertip in the meantime. It always drew a blush from her, and they were really the best part of my day. Very entertaining.

Colour dotted her already flushed cheeks. "Okay," she said animatedly, and grabbed her suitcase. I took it from her small hands, and half an hour later, we were packed into my Jeep.

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><p><strong>Nora's Point of View<strong>

"What the hell does this mean?" I cried, confusion splashed across my face. I turned the map upside down, inside out, right side up and in the end, crumpled it into a ball and threw it into the back seats. It was dark outside, we were on a completely deserted road and I was regretting my earlier stubborn protest to read the map. Patch grinned in the driver's seat and flexed his fingers around the wheel. "So," he said, "We're stuck here.. In the _wilderness_.. All alone.."

"Wilderness," I scoffed, though scanning the immediate area discreetly. "We're gonna be killed," he said, the hint of a smirk in his velvety voice. I stretched over and hit him playfully on the arm. "They'll eat you first, you're bigger," I said, sticking my chin out and narrowing my eyes at him.

"Of course, Angel," he chuckled, rolling his eyes as he pulled the car to the side of the road and cut the engine. We were plunged into black the second his lights switched off.

"So what do we do now?" I hissed, scrambling to untie my seatbelt. He reached across and clicked it out of place with a flick of his wrist. "I say we stay here," he whispered back. I felt him shrug. "See if the bears come get us."

"Patch!" I snipped, sheepishly beginning to feel nervous. His arm curled around my waist and pulled me to his side in one smooth movement. I succumbed to his enticing warmth and tucked myself into him. "We'll be okay out here, won't we?" I asked timidly.

"I'll keep you safe, Angel," he replied, looking down at me with amusement lighting his eyes. I shifted and manoeuvred myself into his lap. "I'm sorry for getting us lost," I mumbled, frowning. He twisted a curl around the tip of his finger and I played with the hair at the nape of his neck. "We're not lost," he said simply, with a twinkle in his eye, "I know where we are."

"You do?" I asked excitedly.

"Yeah," he said, his heartbreaking smirk taking centre stage on his face. "But let's stay here tonight." I tilted my head to the side, confused as to why he would want to, but he leaned closer and shut me up. My eyes zeroed in on his lips of their own accord, and abruptly, I kissed him. It was usually him who initiated each kiss, and so, it was only fate that I would mess it up somehow. I knocked my nose against his. My cheeks flamed, burning with dark red blood.

"Sorry," I muttered, ducking my head into the collar of his jacket to hide my blush. "It's okay," he answered, though I could hear the smothered laughter in his voice. He shook slightly with badly disguised chuckling.

"Practice makes perfect," he said, slipping a finger under my chin and bringing my face back up. "And we happen to have a lot, a lot of time." His eyes darkened and brightened simultaneously in desire, if that was possible, and butterflies erupted in my chest.

This was going to be one hell of a Summer.

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><p><strong>Wellll... what'd you think? More? No more? Leave an honest review, hm? ;)<strong>

**Haha! Thank you so much for reading, I really appreciate it! xx**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey guys! So I know I gave a message saying about having to take a break from writing for medical reasons, but there was a mistake and all this stuff happened, but basically for now, I'm back. :) The upload thingy is all messy today, so I don't know if this upload will turn out right or not..**

**Anyways! Thank you so much for the amazing response to the first chapter! So amazing, thank you all so much for everything, I appreciate your time so much, and I'm really glad that you're enjoying my writing! XDD Thanks xx**

**Heres chapter 2, it was fun to write so I hope you enjoy and please leave a review, if it's no trouble! :) Thanks!**

**Ohhh, also, the other day, I helped my friend with her essay and it was so much fun, so I decided that if anyone here wanted help/advice/someone to read their stories, whatever they're about, I'd be more than willing to :) Who'd want help from me, right? Haha! XD Just once you know I'm here to help :)**

**(Update; sorry, I'm so busy with schoolwork that I haven't had a chance to update this week. Hopefully, in the next few days. Stay with me! Thanks so much for all the reviews, I really appreciate them! You peoples are lovely :) xxx Have a nice day xx :) )**

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><p><strong>Nora's Point of View<strong>

"Your choice, Angel," Patch said, softly running his fingertips along the contour of my spine. His smile was slow and gentle, and melted with inklings of desire as his fingers paused at my hips and hooked inside the loops of my jean shorts.

"You have to think, too," I insisted.

He tilted his head to the right and studied my expression. "You pick what we do, I pick where we sleep," he figured, a smirk playing on the edges of his lips. "Not helping," I replied, though it was hard to cover my small smile. He chuckled darkly and ran a hand through his messy hair. "We could.. rob a bank?" he suggested very unhelpfully, and raised an eyebrow in question.

"No."

"Spray paint a retirement home?"

"Patch!"

He smirked wickedly and I pressed my lips together to gurgle back a smile. "Then I'm all out of ideas, Angel," he confessed, lifting a finger to trail it from my temple to my jaw. I exhaled a shaky breath, pointlessly trying to brush aside the familiar urge to kiss him. Sitting in his lap in a cosy, dark Jeep wasn't helping my attempt at nonchalance, but I swallowed down the feelings and met his eyes. "Walk?" I breathed. He shook his head lightly and frowned.

I sighed and threw a helpless glance out the window before watching him carefully for any sign that he was having an epiphany in regards to what we should do. It didn't seem likely, but just as I was about to give up and suggest we just sleep, his eyes widened and he flashed an animated grin. I tilted back from him, eyeing his expression with curiosity. "What?" I asked hesitantly, fingering the collar of his jacket. He held up a hand to silence me and rummaged in his back pocket with his other, all the while holding my stare and winking at my confused expression.

"Mini golf," he announced proudly, unrolling a leaflet and curling my fingers around it. I felt my eyebrows arch in surprise and his lips twitched, fighting a smile. I glanced cautiously at the piece of scrap paper in my palm. "Miniature Golf at Chuck's," I read. The picture was of a huge, illuminated clown head; bright red, smirking lips, tufts of fiery orange frizz on either side of his head, and paper white skin, along with various, unsettling decorations of colourful stars and unicorns splattered on his dimpled cheeks. His jaw was slack, resting on the felt, green ground and a tube, the perfect width for a golf ball, ran through his mouth. The sky in the picture was coal black, and bright lights glowed in a circle around the enormous head and in the clown's eyes.

"Crazy golf?" I mumbled in bewilderment. "Mini golf," Patch nodded, "Crazy golf." He shrugged a shoulder and smiled eagerly. My gaze flickered to his face, and I couldn't help the bubble of laughter that escaped because of the excitement evident in his eyes. "Want to play mini golf?" he asked quietly, running his hands up my thighs. I examined the leaflet quickly once more, deciding that it looked kind of okay. It was a step above forcing myself into unneeded sleep anyway. Another look at Patch's hopeful expression solidified my answer, and with a chuckle, I slid off his lap and back to my seat.

"Let's go play some crazy golf," I grinned, rolling my eyes and buckling in.

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><p>Patch leaned against the counter at Chuck's miniature golf, turning his head briefly to smile foxily at me before facing forward again with a serious expression. He thumbed through a stack of leaflets, waiting for the girl, of about twenty eight, behind the desk to finish with the group ahead of us. Finally, she turned. "What is it?" she asked, her tone dripping with boredom.<p>

"Hello," Patch said smoothly, quirking an eyebrow. He flattened his palms to the dusty countertop and stepped closer. I threw my eyes to the ceiling. The girl's gaze rolled over his face and it was like a light was lit; she snapped into seductive mode. Raking her fingers through dyed red hair, she licked her lips before turning on a beam so falsely bright that I wanted to block my eyes. "Hi, sugar," she purred. Patch's smile was equally untrue, but through her thick mascara and eyeliner, I doubt she noticed. "And how are you today?" Patch asked quietly, tilting his head to one side and studying her carefully. Blush dotted her cheeks, which were heavy with makeup, and she moved closer to him. "I'm fine, sugar," she said, licking her front teeth ridiculously slowly. "Bored. No one here is up for any fun."

"Is that so?"

Her smile was soaked in flirtatious thoughts. "Are you up for any fun?" she murmured, resting her elbows on the desk. "Could be," Patch answered, a slow smile crawling to his face. The girl's eyes darted about the dim room feverishly, before her lips curved sweetly and she scooted closer. What kinda fun?" she wondered.

"Hm, let's keep it a surprise," Patch murmured, peeking pointedly around the half filled room, "Mini golf for two? We can talk then."

The girl's smile was so disgustingly intimate that I almost gagged. "Sounds brilliant, sugar," she grinned, and almost inaudibly, "On the house." She licked her lipstick coloured lips and ducked under the counter. Frowning, I stepped forward, ready to grab Patch's hand and demand to know what he was thinking.

Looks like we're getting in for free, sugar.. His voice breezed through my mind. I paused, and he turned his head to glance at me, sporting a bone melting smile. I felt myself crack a quiet laugh under my breath, and he winked a dark, sultry eye at me. Whipping back around just in time, he held out his hands and accepted the golf clubs the girl was all too eagerly handing him. Next she withdrew two luminous yellow pass cards on multicoloured string, and scribbled her signature. "Thank you," Patch said, inclining his head much too close for my comfort and taking them from her. "Anytime, sugar," she answered, swinging a leg over the counter and preparing to hop it.

Patch spun around. "Well, Angel, here's your golf club. Let's go," he said, smirking happily and taking my hand. Grinning, I laced my fingers through his and snatched the smaller club from under his arm. "Thank you, boyfriend," I chirped. He laughed and swung his own club over his shoulder, missing a dirty picture frame by centimetres.

"Wait, what?" the girl asked, positioned with one leg over the counter, the other dangling midair. Confusion clear on her face, she frowned and glared at our joined hands. Patch lifted a shoulder and let it drop. "Me and my girlfriend," he explained, planting his hands on my shoulders and turning me to face him. "We came to play mini golf," he said, tossing her a smile and then slipping one of the cards on string over my head. His warm eyes danced with amusement when our gazes met.

The girl turned her nose up, and confusion turned to anger. "Are you serious?" she snapped, sliding off the counter. I winced as her leather clad legs made a grating nose when in contact with the green painted wood. "Yes," Patch replied, tilting his head to the side with a bewildered expression. He wrapped an arm around my shoulders and tucked me close to his side.

"You tricked me!" the girl hissed, her fists in tight, red clumps at her sides. Patch cocked an eyebrow at her with a grimace, and exchanged looks with me. "I think you're confused," he said in a placating tone, studying her like she was about to freak out.

"Excuse me! Hell am I confused! You tricked me!"

"I'm sorry, you must be mistaken," Patch murmured, tightening his arm around my shoulders. I almost felt bad for the girl. But surely she knew that he was way too young looking for her, and plus, she was acting like a prostitute behind the desk; wearing tight leather pants to her mid calf, a top which cut off way before her belly button, cheap makeup, and putting all of her effort into seducing young customers. Desperate should've been printed on her shiny forehead. Even so, I sniffed and averted my gaze from her flaky face. This wasn't my usual behaviour. Other people's emotions never amused me. Maybe it was because she was hitting on my boyfriend like there wasn't another second to live and I was transforming into a green eyed monster, I don't know.

The girl looked enraged. Scrunching up her nose and clenching her jaw, she began spluttering. "I'm.. I'm.."

"You're..?" Patch prompted. "I'm calling my manager!" she exclaimed, jabbing her fingers crazily at the pair of us, and then towards the mucky phone, tangled in wire on the counter. "Well, that's great," Patch said, smiling like she had just told him the weather forecast looked promising. "We'll be on our way. Thank you." He squeezed my hand lightly in his own and tugged me towards the double doors leading out onto the miniature golf course.

"Wait!" the girl voiced in a tone that could only be described as a growl, "You need to pay!" Patch halted in his tracks and looked back over his shoulder. "You said it was on the house?" he reminded her. She scowled darkly and her eyes narrowed into slits. "That was before.. Before..-"

"Before what?"

"Ugh!" she snarled, slammed the phone back into its cradle and turned her back to us. "Just go!" she ordered, hastily dismissing my feigned apologetic smile with a flick of her wrist. "Well, like I said, thank you," Patch said, smirking down at me. "Come on, Angel, let's go play."

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><p><strong>Patch's Point of View<strong>

Nora was still catching her breath, leaning heavily against the golf club with a smile so wide, I thought her cheeks would split. "That was so funny," she gasped, flattening a hand to her stomach and wincing. "My stomach hurts from laughing!"

"That's a good sign," I grinned, taking her hand. It was so much smaller than mine, and so soft, and each time I held it, I was reminded of just how fragile and delicate my Angel was.

"Kinda sadistic though," she said with a smile and glanced up at me through light eyelashes. I shrugged, using the movement to pull her to my side. "Did you see the ring on her finger?" I asked.

"No.."

"Yeah, she was married," I explained, smirking broadly at her surprised gaze. "She was already flirting with me so once I noticed, I decided to play a game with her."

"Patch!" She punched me playfully in the arm, but her attack was weakened as she dissolved into another fit of laughter, this time so much so that I had to catch her around the waist. Not that I was complaining.

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><p><strong>Nora's Point of View<strong>

The first hole was a magnificent, princess castle, the point of entrance for the ball was a small bridge over a moat of water and into purple doors. It sparkled and glittered with fairy lights, and the water glowed a fluorescent baby blue.

"Wow," I whistled, unable to stop my eyes from growing large. Patch chuckled quietly. "Like it, Angel?" he asked, swinging his club from his shoulder. "Love it," I said, exhaling a huge breath.

"It's a bit too girly for me," Patch shrugged. I smiled at him. He grinned back, and then indicted with his club to the beginning of the felt, green grass. "Ladies first," he winked, stepping back out of my way. I stepped up to the starting point where Hole One was smeared in cream coloured paint on the grass, and suddenly realised, I had absolutely no idea how to do this.

Act natural, Nora.

Flashing back to various times I had spotted golf on the television during my life, I remembered little things the golfers did. I cupped my hand against my forehead, fighting the nonexistent glare of blaring sunlight, and peered down the length of this hole. The princess castle was placed four or five metres down from me, the ball would emerge from a door at its rear, and then all it had to do was travel over a defined but low hump in the felt, and glide into the hole. "Simple," I said, nodding. I gripped the golf club between my slippery fingers, bent my knees and checked again. Thankfully, the course was still the same. I lined up my shot, sucked in a sharp breath and hit.

A beat of silence. "Hole in one," Patch cheered, a smile thick in his voice though I couldn't see because my eyes were glued shut. "Really?" I exclaimed, peeling open my eyes to jump at him. "Better see for yourself," he chuckled, wrapping his arms around me and pressing a kiss to my temple. "Oh, right," I said, blushing and pulling back from him. Obviously I should've checked my shot before running into his arms for a victory kiss.

My jaw dropped. "Oh, my God," I muttered, covering my face with my palms. "That is so embarrassing." Behind me, Patch burst into loud laughter, causing me to jump on the spot in fright. I eyed the golf ball with venomous eyes; it was still in the place I had put it, sitting on the raised clump of grass, unmoved. I hadn't hit it.

"And you looked so sure of yourself," he laughed, bending at the waist and bracing his hands on his knees. "Shut up," I whined, poking him in the rips. My cheeks flamed scarlet and I ducked my head to hide them. "Try again, Angel," he encouraged, stroking the back of my hand with his finger. I shot him a glare and muttered, "I suck."

"Oh, I kno-"

"Patch!"

His smile was so heartbreakingly sexy, I felt my knees become jellylike and weak. "I'll help you, Angel," he said, observing my reaction to his smile carefully and probably filing it away for later use, which caused my cheeks to grow even warmer and his smile to grow wider. He tangled my hand with his.

"It's all pretty easy," he said soothingly, bringing our twined hands to his face to kiss my fingers. "Right," I nodded, unbelieving, "Yeah." He smiled warmly and dragged me back to the starting point, a secret twinkling in his eyes.

"Stand here." He brought me gently to stand on the words Hole and One. I crushed the letters with my shoes, and he nodded. At least I knew how to stand. "I'm going to stand behind you, okay, Angel?" he inquired, a slow smirk building on his lips as he moved to position himself behind me. He tiptoed his skilled fingers along my waist, flattened them to my midriff and rested his chin on my shoulder. I hauled in a shaky breath, my eyes fluttering closed at the familiar contact.

"Stay awake," he chuckled lowly in my ear. The sound was so close that it caused an excited knot to twist in my stomach. His breath tickled the side of my face, which was warm to the touch and he moved his lips to the base of my neck. "Hold the club," he directed, moving his hands from my stomach to slide down my arms and grip my wrists. He separated my fingers one by one and curled them around the green grip of the club. "Ready, Angel?" he murmured. My eyelids had slipped closed again, and I could hear my breathing. It was loud and reached my lungs in short drags.

"Angel?" I felt him grin as he covered my hands with his and brushed his nose to my cheek. Screw mini golf, he was so enticingly warm.. "I don't like golf," I mumbled, blurting out a stupid sentence in my heady state. His scent was so intoxicating. So fresh, minty, inviting and warm. "I know," he said quietly, hints of contained laughter in his deep voice.

"Let's stop mini golfing then.."

"Mini golfing?"

I twisted around so that we were facing each other. "Mhm," I mumbled, snaking my arms up his solid chest to lock around his neck. His eyes flashed and my breath caught as he wasted no time in closing the distance to kiss me. He dropped the golf club to the floor behind me, and it crashed to the concrete next to the felt with a loud crunch. I squealed in surprise, jolting out of Patch's arms, but contact was broken only momentarily as he took advantage of the situation and grabbed me by the waist.

"Sorry." He showed a smile, swiftly lifting me off the ground and bringing his face to mine again. I felt the cold, smooth surface of a wall behind my back, but all thoughts were drowned when I felt his tongue trace my bottom lip agonizingly slow. With a humiliating moan of approval, I opened my mouth and let him deepen the kiss. The electricity was tangible.

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><p><strong>Patch's Point of View<strong>

"We should do that again," Nora said, once she had handed back in the golf clubs and passes to a new worker behind the counter. I cocked an eyebrow and smirked. "Oh yeah?"

"Yep," she said, smiling prettily and reaching out to catch my hand as we left. "You're really great at playing," I winked. She blushed, cheeks darkening in bright colour and squeezed my hand. "You're such a pervert, Patch.." she chuckled, shaking her head lightly and casting me a sparkling look from the corner of her eye. "Hm.." I shrugged out of my jacket, wrapped it around her shoulders and folded her into my side.

"Thank you, Patch," she whispered in a small, cottony voice. She glanced up at me and smiled, appreciation thick in her eyes. Frowning, I sent her question marks with my expression. "For what?" I mused. "For taking me here," she said, shrugging simply and burrowing closer to me.

* * *

><p><strong>Nora's Point of View<strong>

We were back in the Jeep. I propped my legs on the window, and leaned back into Patch. He wrapped one arm around my waist, and another rested in my lap.

"So which was your favourite golf theme?" I asked, bringing the yellow straw of my chocolate milkshake to my lips and pulling the lumpy liquid into my mouth. He braided his fingers through my free hand and shifted beneath me, so that I was leaning against his chest more comfortably. "Definitely the ogre themed one," he said with a smile, and put his chin on the top of my head.

"I liked the princess one," I admitted, tilting back my head to wink at him. He kissed me softly on the lips when I did, and a trickle of desire ran down my spine. While I began hastily considering how I could twist around and face him without killing us or the car, he pulled away all too soon to smirk seductively at me.

"Meany," I joked, scowling playfully and turning away to finish my drink. When he leaned down the next time to brush his lips to mine, I turned my head and grabbed his blue baseball cap from his head. "No more kissing," I said, wriggling the cap until it sat right on my head. He frowned. "And you say I'm the meany, Angel," he mumbled, teasingly trailing the tip of his finger along the side of my face.

"You pulled away first."

"True," he agreed, flashing a smirk. He continued to tease me with his feather light touch until I couldn't take it anymore, and with a sigh of defeat, I reached up to kiss him. He paused a hairsbreadth from my lips. "No more kissing," he whispered, echoing what I had said earlier. His lips touched mine when he spoke, and his breath swept my face.

I rolled my eyes. "Fine," I groaned, slumping in his arms and curling my knees up. "You go to sleep," he said, tightening his hold on me tenderly. "I'm not tired," I protested, sheepishly being cut off by a yawn in the meantime. He chuckled and began sifting his fingers through my hair very slowly, and very gently. It was more soothing than anything and within seconds, I felt myself drifting.

"'Night, Patch.."

"Goodnight, Angel," he whispered, touching his velvety lips to mine. "I love you."

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><p><strong>Pretty please leave a review and tell me what you think? :D xx Thank you so much for reading! xx<strong>

**I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did while writing it :) **


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey! How are you all? HAPPY HALLOWE'EN! Did you all have fun? :D **

**First of all, I am so sorry for being so bad with my updates lately! I was so busy for ages with schoolwork, and now I've been hit with this huge wall of writer's block and every word I write annoys me. I'm not even sure if I like this chapter, aha.. Anyways, thank you SO much for the AMAZING! response! Holy holy, that was some amazing response! Thank you to every single one of your for all the reviews, and alerts, and favourites; and WOW, just _THANK YOU!_**

**Lots of love to everyone, and please please please leave a review! I need help to get over this writer's block haha! **

**_THANKS GUYS! XXXX_**

* * *

><p><strong>Nora's Point of View<strong>

"Nora, you can't be serious."

"Oh, I'm serious."

"Why?" His voice was whiny. Shrugging, I eyed the pamphlet with an eager smile. "Looks like fun," I answered, running my finger over the paper. He took it from me.

"An aquarium?" he questioned, an eyebrow raising. "What kinda fun is an _aquarium_?" I considered this for a moment before answering. "The fish have fun."

"That's a seriously bad answer."

"Then why are you smiling?"

His small smile grew into a smirk. Reaching to grab my hand, he pulled me closer. "You make me smile, Angel," he said, his voice low as he came level with my eyes. I flattened my hands to his chest. "That's a seriously bad answer," I replied, pushing him back lightly.

"Then why are you smiling?" he wondered.

I blushed. His grin was crazy seductive.

* * *

><p>The mingling scents of popping corn and sweetly sugared confectioneries were thick in the air of the cinemas. My stomach grumbled in anticipation. Smirking happily, I waited rather impatiently for Patch to return with my food. After finally caving to his spontaneous idea to go to the cinema, my only request was that he buy me all the popcorn I could fit in my belly. I crossed my arms over my chest loosely, fighting the smirk from my face as he turned around. I was playing annoyed.<p>

Patch winked an eye at me, holding an overflowing, apple red box of popcorn in his right arm. In his left hand, he held a rectangular box of skittles. "Ready to go, Angel?" he asked, strolling across the mildly filled cinema foyer. "Yes," I answered sharply, flicking my falsely annoyed gaze to him. I snatched the bucket of popcorn-y goodness from his arm, and an instant smile tilted my lips.

"Great," he chirped, rolling his eyes at my response. He reached for my hand, but just as his fingers brushed the back of it, I bounced away and stuck it into the popcorn. "Oops, sorry," I mumbled, flashing an innocent smile as I stuffed ten fluffy pieces into my mouth. He shook his head lightly and smiled.

I could almost hear Vee's excited voice dance through my mind. _Sit at the back, Nora!_ it shrieked happily as we walked into the dim cinema room.

Stalling, I left a whistle free. "Whoa," I said, coming to a stop right inside the swinging doors. Patch tossed me a look over his shoulder, asking me a question with his eyes. Frowning, I raked my stare along the rows of seating. My eyes widened as I realised that the only other people in here were a thick cluster of elderly men and women. Grey haired with walking frames. I eyed Patch with a teasing smile.

"What kinda movie did you pick?" I mused, walking past and nudging him as I did so. He shrugged and grabbed my arm. "I guess we're going to find out," he chuckled, sliding his grip from my elbow to my fingers.

"You don't know what movie this is?" I wondered, giving him a huge question mark with my expression as he led me to a row in between the middle point and back. "Nope," he smirked, popping his lips on the p. Plopping down next to him, I poked him in the ribs. "You're weird," I muttered. "How can you not know which one you picked?"

"I told the guy to leave us into the next movie."

Slitting my eyes playfully at him, I flicked another piece of popcorn into my mouth. "So we could end up in either a horror, romance, thriller, tragedy or.. comedy?" I held up five fingers and left each one drop as I ticked them off. Patch's eyes lit with humour. "That's generally the idea, yes," he answered, concealed laughter in his voice.

I smiled sarcastically, this time aiming the piece of popcorn at his head. "Score!" I cried with a grin, wiggling into my seat and settling more comfortably as the screen flickered to life. Patch reached to the peek of his blue hat and plucked the fat popcorn piece from it. Shooting me a disapproving look, he opened his mouth and threw it in. He chewed happily while I swallowed down the cackle that had built in my throat. "You're weird!" I grinned, hanging my head and feigning a disappointed glare at him.

* * *

><p>"Did you see that, Angel?" Patch murmured, leaning close to my ear and tickling my neck with his warm breath. "Yes," I squeaked, pretending to be tucking hair behind my ears, but in reality, I was covering my eyes from the brutality of the movie. At this present moment, a possessed, sweetheart little girl was gripping a bloody knife while chasing her parents through a forest.<p>

"Ah," he chuckled, returning to lounging in his own seat. "I'm sure you did." Scrunching up my face like a child, I stubbornly glared at him. "I did," I insisted under my breath. He glanced at me briefly, the bright screen casting shadows across his face. "Uh-huh," he whispered unconvincingly.

"Yup," I replied proudly, straightening up in my seat and preparing to give him a quick rundown of what had happened in the last ten minutes. Patch cocked an eyebrow expectantly, but, ruining my surprise, a character in the film shrieked at the tiptop of her voice, and startled me cold.

My eyes all but popped from their sockets. Quickly clamping a palm over my mouth, Patch smothered a scream which threatened to break loose. "You're okay," he soothed, amusement heavy in his voice as I jumped and buried my head in his shoulder. "Stupid damn movie," I gasped, fingers finding the lapels of his leather jacket and gripping. He lifted a hand and stroked my cheek gently. "Only a movie," he said, and when I looked up at him, a confident smirk lit his features.

"Still," I muttered, peeking under my arm at the screen. "It's stupid."

His chest rumbled with a set of chuckles, which dramatically fired up when the girl in the movie shouted out again, causing me to hide in the crook of his neck. "I hate horrors," I hissed, sucking in a deep breath of his minty scent.

* * *

><p><strong>Patch's Point of View<strong>

Nora panted heavily in my ear. "I hate horrors," she gulped, increasing her grip on my collars until her fingers paled to a creamy colour. It was entertaining to see her so worked up and almost clambering into my lap, but at the same time, I didn't like seeing her frightened.

Covering her hands at my jacket with my own, I gently pried them away. Instantaneously, she reached for me again but I twisted in my seat. "You wanna leave, Angel?" I asked, taking her face, bug eyes included, in my hands. She blinked and sent a careful glance at the glowing screen. It took advantage of a perfect moment, and picked this time to flash a beautiful picture of a mangled body, intestines spilled on the floor.

"_Oh_," Nora blurted, lunging and locking her arms around my waist. I wrapped my arms around her back and she tucked her head into my chest. "I think we should go," I admitted, biting back an amused smile because I knew it would annoy her. Nora flexed her arms. "Okay," she breathed, gnawing at her lip. "Maybe not leave, just come outside with me?"

"Sure, Angel."

* * *

><p><strong>Nora's Point of View<strong>

Grateful for the departure, I gripped his hand and pulled him from the pitch dark room. The elderly group eyed us with distaste, disturbed by the subtle noise I made when I accidentally stepped on a discarded coke bottle. "Why are there old people watching a horror anyway?" I muttered to Patch as he stood up. "Don't know," he answered back, giving them a quick grin before throwing an arm around my shoulders.

Fifteen minutes later, we were sitting on a hard, blue leather couch outside the doors to our screen. I was calm again, eventually regaining my breath once I could see my hands in front of me, and once horrifying pictures weren't being thrust in my face.

Patch touched the back of my hand with his fingertip. "We don't have to go back in," he said. Flipping my hand palm up, I braided my fingers through his. "But you paid for it, right?" I thought, tilting my head to the side. He simply grinned boyishly, solidifying my suspicions that he hadn't. Shaking my head, I couldn't fight a smile. "You're crazy, you know?"

I chuckled quietly, and he leaned in. "That's why you love me," he winked, resting a hand on my thigh as he pressed a slow kiss to my cheek. My steady breathing stuttered, and I narrowed my eyes in hopes to cover my reaction. "Back up, boy," I scolded, edging him away by the chest.

"Aw," he moaned, snagging his finger in the waistband of my pants and tugging me closer. "Still no kissing?"

"No," I replied uncertainly. Ignoring that, he slid his hands beneath my knees and pulled them across his lap. "You don't sound so sure, Angel," he said, smirking widely at my _deer caught in headlights _expression. "I'm sure," I breathed, raising an eyebrow in challenge. He ran his fingers up one of my arms, sending streaks of tingles through my skin. "Still don't sound very convincing," he tusked in disappointment, his voice low while he swept hair away from one side of my neck.

A surprised breath filled my lungs as a slither of heat trickled into my system. "I'm sure.." I stammered, trailing off as his lips softly met my neck. "What was that?" he whispered, his breath blowing across my skin and raising pleasant goose bumps. "What did you say?" he asked with a laugh, his voice dark with emotions that released cheery butterflies in my chest. I reached down and tilted his face upwards, tucking away a dark lock of hair falling into his eyes as I did so. "I said," I replied, my hands sneaking up behind his neck of their own accord while I instinctively inched closer, "That I'm sure."

Teasingly slow, he meandered his hands up my thighs. "You're certain?" he murmured, bringing his forehead to mine and pulling me totally into his lap. "I'm certain," I decided, palming one side of his face and using the other to support myself around his shoulders. Accepting my equal eagerness, he rewarded me with a wicked smile.

"I think I can change that," he confessed, simply shrugging a shoulder. Before I could answer, protest or make any kind of a sound, he evaporated the distance between us and pressed his lips to mine. At first, I thought it'd be quick. Touch and go. One feel of the softest lips in existence, and he'd lean back. But surprising me, his arms encircled my waist and forced me closer. He slipped his hands under the hem of my t-shirt, and when they met the skin of my back, an involuntary moan slipped from my lips.

When I felt his tongue trace my bottom lip, I opened and let him deepen the kiss. He tasted like sour skittles; bitter, sour but sweet, and combined with his skill and velvety feel, stars danced in my eyes. Licking my bottom lip again, I felt a chuckle rumble through his chest. He broke away to leave me drag in a breath, instead moving to kiss a searing line along my jaw to my ear.

"What's so funny?" I gasped, tiptoeing my fingers to his hair and tugging him back to me. Resisting, he sighed hot breath down the back of my neck. "You taste like popcorn," he said, smirking as he kissed the spot below my ear. I bit my lip, shivering, when he nipped playfully at my earlobe. "Yeah, well..-" he grabbed my waist, and twisted me so that I had one leg on either side of him, "-you taste like skittles."

"Mm," he hummed, pressing his hands to my lower back to draw me in. I kissed him again, basking in the way he could make me lose every thought under his subtle touch. After a few moments of tasting and hair tugging, he pulled back to rest his forehead against mine. "Wanna go?" he asked, his voice heavily laced with want. I almost whined in complaint and pressed myself closer to him, but he pointedly glanced around the immediate area, reminding me that we were in a cinema. I nodded eagerly, and with a triumphant grin, he lifted me off his lap.

"Damn kids!" we heard a voice call out. I spun around and met the eyes of one of the elderly people from our movie, standing outside the doorway of our cinema screen. Glaring with venom in our direction, she raised a clenched fist and shook it. "Damn kids!" she yelped again, earning two very cautious stares.

Patch spoke first. "Is everything okay?" he asked her, raising an eyebrow at me as we exchanged confused glances. The woman shuffled towards us, pushing her walking frame over the carpet with feeble strength. "Damn kids," she muttered for the third time. Forehead crinkling with confusion, I eyed her warily. "Don't give me that look, girl," she snapped, pointing a long nailed hand in my direction. "Your stupid lighty-uppy-thingy is glowing in there!"

"My _what_?"

Her eyes narrowed balefully. "Don't give me that _tone _either, girl," she said firmly. Shocked, I opened my mouth like a fish. "I'm not giving you any tone," I replied slowly, tossing Patch a hard look as he swallowed down laughter. The woman scoffed. "Regardless," she barked, leaning on the frame. "Your lighty-uppy-thingy is annoying every soul trying to watch the movie. It's glowing and blasting music!" Tilting my head to the side, I stared at her in bewilderment. What the..?

Patch cut in again. "Do you mean a phone?" he inquired politely, giving the woman a gentle smile. I repressed the urge to stamp my foot. She nodded. "Yes, that's what it's called," she answered, a small smile curving her own lips. Patch gestured towards the swinging doors of the cinema room. "Thanks for telling us," he said brightly, taking my hand. "We'll go get the phone now, and sorry for any inconvenience."

Looking flustered, the woman followed us with her eyes. "Well," she said. "That's good. Don't leave it happen again, boy."

"Never," Patch swore, winking at me. As we passed, I smiled sweetly too, a familiar yet also strange feeling of pride over the handsome man on my hand clouding my mind. "Sorry," I chirped, giving her a quick, sugary look. She glared at me and muttered, "Don't look at me like that, girl, the movie was better without all your silly screeching."

Jaw falling slack, I shot her an incredulous look. _What the.._ it said.

Patch's hands fell on my shoulders, and he pulled my body in front of him. Moving so that my back touched his chest, he muffled his quiet laughter in my hair. "Ignore her, Angel," he chuckled, wrapping his arms around me from behind. Huffing, I sulked and sent a simpering expression the woman's way. Patch squeezed. "Let's go back in," he suggested, slipping his hands down my arms to my hands.

"What?"

Grinning slyly, he jerked his chin in the direction of the woman. "Just to annoy her," he joked, releasing one of my hands and tugging me through the doors by the other. I dug my feet into the thin carpet, thinking that I would much rather leave like we were already planning to do. Patch hauled me to his side and tucked me in close. "We have all summer to be alone," he whispered, kissing the corner of my lips softly. Considering this, I glanced up at his suggestive grin.

I grabbed his hand, picturing the irritated glare I'd get from the evil old woman when she spotted me. "Let's do it," I agreed, nudging open the door.

* * *

><p><strong>Patch's Point of View<strong>

We rescued the phone, which was blaring out because it was low in battery. Nora stole the skittles. And after sneakily swiping my cap, she pulled it down to shade her eyes and began stuffing her face with a mixture of slightly hard popcorn and lots of skittles. I questioned her strange behaviour, and she answered with big, worried eyes. "I hate horrors," she whispered, and I had to laugh, she was too unique.

The snappy woman returned shortly, gasping loudly and shooting us disbelieving daggers. A curt smile and wave had her scowling and slumping into her seat, gossiping to the oldies on her sides. "Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed," Nora commented, rolling her eyes at me.

She was scared of the movie, but refused to leave, claiming it was too satisfying to annoy the woman who was rude to her. So I gave her my iPod, she wiggled into my side, and ten minutes before the movie ended, drifted to sleep.

* * *

><p><strong>Nora's Point of View<strong>

The bed was soft, the sheets a rich creamy colour with a red throw and cushions. Two matching red lamps were lit on either side of the huge bed, and I shielded my eyes from the glare of the closest one. Frowning, I slipped off the bed, still fully dressed, and wandered from the room into an elaborate living room and kitchen. The wall along one side of the room was pure, pristine glass, and looked out over a dark city. It was equipped with a hanging flat screen, bouncy looking couch, and a stereo. The kitchen sported black, granite countertops with upgraded appliances and equipment.

My eyes bugged, but it wasn't because of the hotel room. Patch stood with his back to me in the kitchen, his hair curled and damp at the ends with a towel slung absentmindedly over the countertop. He turned at my entrance.

"Evening, Angel," he smirked, nodding at me. Smiling, I blushed and nodded back. "Where are we?" I wondered, walking to the kitchen and sitting on one of the expensive stools. "A hotel," he explained, grinning widely at my baffled expression. He bent towards me. "You fell asleep," he chuckled, leaning close to brush his lips to mine tenderly. The finger he had locked around my heartstrings tugged, and I bit back a moan.

"In the cinema?" I asked, running a hand through my knotty hair. His eyes twinkled. "Yep."

Patch told me to get lost for at least half an hour, because he had some sort of a surprise. I couldn't disobey his excited grin, so with a feigned sad expression, I trudged to the bathroom where I found my road trip bag. After a long shower, I changed into comfortable pyjamas shorts and a loosely fitted hoodie.

Familiar hands clamped over my eyes the second my feet touched floor outside of the bathroom. "Shh, it's only me," Patch said in my ear, a smile evident in his voice as he slid behind me. "What are you doing?" I exclaimed in surprise, covering his hands with my own and attempting to pull them away.

"Surprise!" he reminded me, unmoving. I exhaled a long breath and let him lead me to the kitchen. He helped me onto a chair, and spun me around. "Ready for this, Angel?" he asked happily. My head fell to the side when he kissed my neck very, very softly. "Hm?" he probed, pulling away to rest his chin on my shoulder.

"Ready."

Patch dropped his hands, instead curling them around my waist tightly as I straightened up. In front of us on the reflective black countertop was a large glass bowl full of salty popcorn, next to it a smaller bowl of skittles, two drinks and a pretty, wrapped box of-

"Jelly babies?" I blurted, closing the lid of the box and tipping my head back to see his proud smile. "Much more fun than plain chocolates," he told me, devouring my laughter with a long kiss. When he pulled back, warm tingles were skittering through my system. "What's all this for?" I mused, indicating to the pile of goodies with an amused smile.

"You didn't like the movie today, so I thought we'd watch one you like," he shrugged, a knowing glint in his dark eyes. A heartbreaking smile tilted his lips. "And I promised you all the popcorn you could fit in your belly." My heart swelled. Grabbing him by the collars, I brought his face to mine hungrily.

* * *

><p>Many hours later, I was vaguely aware of the sensation of flying, which was absurd, so with a startled squeak, my eyes fluttered open. "Movie is over, Angel," Patch murmured, tightening his hold on me and pressing his lips gently to my forehead. A feeling of warmth and safety washed over me, and my heavy eyelids drooped.<p>

Patch pulled me to his side and wrapped an arm around me. Flopping onto his chest, I threw a leg carelessly over his and he chuckled. "Did you have fun today?" I wanted to know, my sentence broken by a tiger yawn.

"I always have fun with you, Angel," Patch answered, touching his fingers to the top of my head and running them through my hair. "I'm too tired to deal with your innuendos," I mumbled, straining to kiss him on the jaw.

"Go to sleep then," he smirked, meeting me halfway.

"Will do."

He kissed me once more, drawing a noise of approval from deep in my chest. "Love you, Angel," he said, smiling a rare, genuine smile. I rested my head back against his chest, squeezing him tightly and revelling in the feeling of contentment, and the promising thought that this road trip was already, and would continue to be, one of the best experiences of my life.

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><p><strong>Well...? Please leave a review! I have all this week off, lots of writing time but I need all of your help to get over stupid writer's block haha! Anyways.. sorry if it sucks, I really am!<strong>

**Thank you all again for the lovely response last time! I really, really appreciate it!**

**I hope you enjoyed this, please let me know what you think :) _THANKS!_ xx**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey! How're you all? :) Thank you so much for the amazing response to the last chapter; all the alerts, reviews, everything! THANKS GUYS! I really appreciate it :) xx Love you all! **

**Sorry for the late upload- way too much homework to even think about writing, sadly.. :( Sorry! **

**I hope you all like this anyway, and please leave a review! :) xxx THANKS!**

* * *

><p><strong>Patch's Point of View<strong>

"_Nora_," the feminine voice gasped. "I swear to God, I'm going to kill you."

Fighting the smirk from my face, I dodged Nora's lethargic gaze and shovelled a mushy pancake between my lips.

She let a sigh slide her teeth. "Vee," she said complacently. "I'm sorry for not calling you but-"

Barrelling through the phone line at alarming decibels, Vee growled and Nora paused mid-breath to flinch. "But? _But_? Don't give me a _but, _Nora," Vee snapped crankily. I could imagine steam puffing from her ears. Badly muffling my laughter, Nora spared me a puzzled glance before gingerly bringing the phone back to her ear again. "I'm really sorry, Vee," she repented quietly.

"I thought you were _dead_!" Vee groused in a shrill tone.

"Yeah, I know-"

Vee's laughter was bitter. "Yeah, you know? _Yeah, you know? _Nora, I was this close to calling the police! _This close!_ I was calling you all yesterday, and last night, and this morning, and now it's, what, noon and you call me _now_?"

Nora's expression was tired as she ran a hand through her hair. "Vee, listen, I really am sorry," she insisted, a guilty glint dancing in her voice. "But me and Patch just kinda left.. And I forgot to call."

"Nora, I-"

Now sick of hearing Vee's grumbling and muttering for the past ten minutes, I pried Nora's fingers from the phone and ignored her wide eyed expression. "Vee," I said calmly into the speaker. Nora blanched and lurched for the phone, but I held a finger in the air at her protesting squeals. "Nora's sorry. She made a mistake. She can make up for it later. We're going now. Goodbye."

"Patch! I-" The shrieking was finally cut short with a quick snap of the wrist.

Though painting her face with a feigned put, Nora's eyes filled with relief tinged with amusement. "Well, that's another thing I'm going to have to make up for," she said thoughtfully, shrugging a shoulder.

"Seems like you have a lot of making up to do," I commented casually, cocking an eyebrow at her. Nora agreed wholeheartedly with a grizzly growl and a roll of her pale eyes. Folding her arms onto the countertop, she rested her chin on top. "No doubt my Mom will call next," she grumbled, flickering her gaze to mine just in time to catch my toothy grin.

Her phone buzzed abruptly, and the caller ID lit up. For a beat, we both stared incredulously at it.

"Are you serious?"

"Seems like you're also psychic, Angel."

* * *

><p><strong>Nora's Point of View<strong>

With a wicked, secret smile, I held our destination silent while Patch continued to pick away at my unwavering self control.

"I'm not going if it has anything to do with fish," he said sceptically.

With a moan, "If you're seriously thinking of dragging me to an _opera house_, Angel, let's just put an end to that now."

"A zoo? Spare me, please," he muttered, bitterly grimacing at the thought.

This time with enlarged, slightly worried smoky eyes, "Have I ever told you how much I hate shopping, Angel?"

"Stop asking," I chuckled, smiling sweetly at his narrowed stare. "You'll find out when we get there." Lacing my fingers through his, I tugged him from the hotel room/apartment/huge-thing.

Gripping Patch's hand tightly, I pulled him down into the seat next to me. "You're causing a scene," I said disapprovingly, though a smile was evident in my murmur. The twenty -give or take a few- people in the room were blinking at us with baffled expressions and fish gape mouths.

"You.. you.." Patch sank into the chair next to me, and I crossed my legs beneath the table. Nodding at a few of the staring humans politely, I flashed them a friendly smile.

"You.. Angel, you didn't."

I slid my eyes back to Patch. His expression was just too funny. It was like someone had gotten a cold bucket and splashed him with a hard, horrified and appalled expression. "You okay, Patch?" I asked, eyeing the middle aged woman who strolled through the door, laden down with equipment.

Patch took a deep breath. "You brought me to school?" he wondered, strangely sounding like he was wounded. You'd think I had dragged him to an Army Base to run a million laps or something! No, he probably would've enjoyed that- boys are weird.

"Not school," I chirped. "A cooking class."

Still resembling a cowering puppy dog -an unfamiliar face for Patch-, his eyes flickered to mine briefly, before bouncing away to nervously land on the woman at the top of the room, who was now introducing herself and explaining that we were going to be making chocolate cake.

Slinking back into his chair while I grinned and sat straighter, Patch shot me a hard look. "Kill me now.." he uttered. I had to laugh.

* * *

><p>I leaned against the plastic-like, white desk, peeking at the recipe in my hands. "What's the difference between baking soda and baking powder?" I mumbled hypothetically, after scraping my hair into some form of a curly ponytail and tying the bright orange apron around my waist.<p>

Patch, still comfortably seated, let his head fall back and roll to the side. It looked like he was working out the kinks, and I arched an eyebrow at him. "I don't know," he responded sourly.

Impishly smirking, I thrust the second apron in his face. "The rose will compliment your eyes," I cajoled, albeit it was dumb, I lacked something better to say. To say the least, the flash of mortification in his eyes was completely worth anything he'd put me through later.

"Hello, kids," the teacher said happily, smiling amusedly between the two of us as I straightened out from my doubled over position, laughing.

"Hi!" I smiled, puffing out my cheeks.

Patch grumbled, snapping his arms across his chest hastily.

"Are you two getting on okay?" she asked, bending over the table to run her fingers along some of the ingredients. She counted silently to herself, taking account of each of the ingredients before motioning to me to sit. "Yeah, we're fine," I answered, sliding onto my stool.

"Good," she said brightly. "Well, here, young man, you can start. And you, miss, can get the eggs ready." The woman snatched the large, metal bowl from beside me and planted it in front of Patch, who stared with dumbfounded eyes back at her.

"I'm meant to.. what?" he ground out, gluing me to the spot with a _stop-laughing _look.

Seemingly unfazed of his bluntness, the woman merely smiled patiently. I bit my lip, swallowing back a giggle. She grabbed a little plate of butter and a bowl of sugar. "Since your friend already measured everything so helpfully-" here, she rewarded me with a praising wink and I blushed, "-all you need to do is mix them both. So, take the spoon and the world's your playground."

Facing me, "You know what to do?" she inquired. I nodded eagerly and set to my task: beating the eggs and mixing it with the milk.

"The world's your playground," Patch repreated mockingly once she had flitted away. Chuckling, I admitted that that had been kind of ridiculous.

I pretended not to notice the small smirk that came to his face when he glanced at me through the corner of his eye.

* * *

><p>"Patch, for God's sake, just mix it."<p>

"No."

"Why?"

"I don't _want _to make a cake. That's why we have shops."

Rolling my eyes, I gave him my back to ogle and proceeded to mix the ingredients which were his to manage. So sue me, I brought my boyfriend to a cooking class. It was either that, or see a ballet in the opera house, which I really didn't want to, (ballet is beautiful, but just not so beautiful when you're on a road trip with your boyfriend), or stay in the hotel and waste the day away.

I'd always wanted to do one of these classes anyway- they looked enjoyable in movies. And it was really just too entertaining to see Patch, clad in black on black, slumped in the middle of the bright, washy room with a sour expression. I hid the smirk that slipped onto my face

"All okay?" the teacher all but sang, pausing by our desk. She ran her eyes over Patch's position, typing grumpily into a phone, before shooting me a look, equipped with a knowing spark.

Scooting to his side, I nudged him in the arm. "All's good," I responded happily. His head moved. "What?" he mumbled, looking up at me.

"I said, all's good." My smile was steely.

The teacher cocked an eyebrow.

Unfreezing a little, Patch thankfully muttered, "Yeah, good," before ducking his head to his phone again. The teacher let a breezy laugh leave her lips before skipping on.

I sighed, resisting the urge to grind my teeth. "You could at least pretend to want to be here," I groused beneath my breath.

Patch cocked his head to the left and conveyed a deadpan look through his dark eyes. Speaking quietly, he ran a hand through his hair before pointing out that he didn't.

"Don't be a bore."

"I'm not being a bore-"

"_Oh _my-"

A shout from the top of the room injected us both with silence. The teacher, strangely wearing a deep frown and crinkled forehead, jabbed an accusing finger our way. Patch's eyes flickered to mine and we exchanged rattled glances. She cleared her throat. "_Please_, children," she drawled with a condescending hint. "Refrain from the flirting while you're here. You're disturbing the others."

Heat flooded my cheeks. One, we were not that loud.. right? And two, I was _so not _flirting-

"Don't try to tell me that you weren't." She was at our desk now, and the stares of multiple other participants of the class were gradually drifting away from my red stained face.

"Sorry."

With eyes saying _I'm watching you_, she narrowed her gaze and walked away.

I turned to Patch. He met my stare and a wide, melting smile cracked across his face. Raising an eyebrow, I studied his expression. "Does this mean you're going to help me now?" I wondered, a hopeful smirk crawling up my throat to my lips.

And just like that, his smile withered and was sucked away. "No," he said, pressing his lips into a hard line. He twisted away and began drumming his fingers in a fixed pattern on the desk. Glaring daggers, I huffed and went right back to where I was before; mixing gooey eggs and milk. It lapped over the edges of the jug and coated my fingers in a flimsy, sticky skin.

Three minutes later, I needed the flour. Sadly, it was on the other side of Patch.

"Can you pass me the flour?" I asked over my shoulder, rather snappily. I stuck my hand out backwards, and after a second or so of this, I spun around. "Did you hear me? I asked if-" My flailing hand collided with the chubby back of fluffy powder in Patch's hand and the whole thing fell to the floor. It was a big, fat bag of flour. There was an explosion of minute white flecks, and they dotted our hair and clothes.

Releasing a breath I didn't know I was holding, my eyes bounced around the room sheepishly. Sure enough, the teacher was pinning me to the spot with hard eyes.

Patch laughed, low and velvety.

"What are you laughing at?" I hissed, tugging my gaze from the teacher's and glancing reproachfully at him. "We just destroyed the place! And the teacher wants to kill us!"

He laughed again. His eyes lit up with amusement.

"Whatever," I growled, shaking flour particles from my hair in vain. "Let's just get this done." _Maybe wasting the day would've been better than a cookery class.._

"I'll help."

Eyes widening, I forgot my regrets and gaped at him. "You'll _what_?" He smirked, jerking his chin towards the irritated teacher. "We'll get it done and get away from her faster," he answered.

Feeling a grin tilt my lips, I nodded eagerly. My bad mood was dissolved. "Good idea," I praised in a chirpy voice. "You can finish.. -or start- mixing this." Kicking the pile of flour out of my way with the toe of my shoe, I gripped the large mixing bowl in my arms and held it outstretched to Patch.

"Just mix it?" he responded, smiling weakly at me as he eyed the lumpy dough inside the bowl with unease. Again, I bobbed my head and jiggled the bowl. "Yeah, take it." He reached for it, and satisfied that he had a hold, I let go.

It tumbled to the floor, scraping by the edge of the table. The messy, blobby mixture ended up in various places; some on the table, a lot on the floor and our shoes, the bowl then turned on its side and rolled like a running coin into the middle of the room, dragging flour with it, and emptied its contents there.

I froze. Patch's eyes were locked on his shoes, and slowly, he dragged his gaze to meet mine. I flinched at the laughter I saw there. He shouldn't be laughing!

The teacher's hollow footsteps boomed as she stormed towards us. Everyone in the room was focused on her; on her fuming expression. Cringing, I unconsciously shuffled partially behind Patch as she slammed her palms onto our desk.

"_What_," she spat bitterly, "Do you think you two are doing?"

"Um, I.. we- uh-" I spluttered, wincing under her baleful, scrunched face. "You what?" she snapped, planting her hands on her hips.

"It fell," Patch mumbled, completely unabashed in regards to her anger as he cocked an eyebrow. "It _fell_?" she snarled, gesticulating madly at the dough all over the table, splattered along the legs of my pants and floor. A sharp gasp came from her when she spotted more of it in the middle of the room.

"Shoot me," I muttered, wiggling my ankle to shake off a wad of dough on my shoe. Patch chuckled beneath his breath and crossed his arms loosely over his chest.

I'll admit I did feel sorry for the teacher- it really looked like we were two delinquents set on ruining her class, so when she turned to me with a fiery red face, I repressed my natural instinct to hide. "Um, do you need help?" I squeaked, lamely pointing to the cloth on the table.

"No," she barked, rolling her sleeves up into balls. "I want you both to leave."

I felt Patch's grin fill in the room. Yes, _felt _it. He was that euphoric that we were getting a ticket out of here.

"Don't have to tell me twice," he whistled, inclining his head to her in a weird nod before snatching my hand. "Let's roll, Angel." Roll? Seriously?

Yanking my hand from his, I ignored his impatient glance and sent the teacher a sympathetic, obedient smile. "Let me at least help," I insisted, scrambling for the cloth. My ears rang at her outraged squeal. Fingers finding the sodden fabric, I pulled. As luck would have it, the cloth was stuck under the glass jar filled with beaten milk and eggs, and as I tugged, it plopped to the ground and shattered. The debris -thankfully just liquid, no glass - bounced up from the floor so high that it matted parts of my hair.

A vein in the teacher's forehead throbbed, her face flushed with angry colour, and she stamped her foot forcefully. "_Out_!" she shouted. I swear the glass in the windows shook. Jumping in fright, I grabbed Patch's hand, effectively covering it in goo.

"I'm so, so sorry," I gushed to the teacher, slipping on the flour, eggs, milk, and dough colouring the floor as he pulled me towards the door where all of the class' belongings were. "Thank you."

"I don't _care_!" the teacher boomed, resembling a ticking bomb about to go off. "_Get out_!"

Patch nudged open the door and I spilled inside, hastily leafing through the thick mound of coats, bags and sacks which belonged to each of the cookery students. Once I found purchase on mine, I turned to Patch.

"Ready, Angel?" he asked happily, shrugging into his black jacket. I nodded and he beamed. I couldn't help the smile I felt slip onto my face.

"Ready," I replied, a chuckle hidden in my voice as I reached to the coat hanger where my bag was swinging. I pulled it over the rung. One of the other rungs was stuck under a pile of plastic dishes, which were on a shelf behind the coat hanger. And, you know, just to add the embarrassment of the whole day, when I pulled my bag, the coat hanger wobbled, and sent all eleven dishes soaring to the floor.

_Clatter. Boom. Smash._

"_Get OUT!_"

Patch's laugh was maniacal as I ran from the room, fiddling with the door handle of the front door before tearing outside. He trailed behind, waving innocently at the teacher before closing the door.

"That was," I gasped, bending and bracing my hands on my knees when I reached the Jeep, "_Awful_."

Overlooking my ashamed face, Patch pulled me into him and wrapped his arms fully around me. His chest shook with laughter. "I don't even regret you bringing me here," he chuckled into my hair. "That was too funny."

I pulled back, and scowling, sent him a glare. "That wasn't funny," I protested. Eyes falling on the building behind, my cheeks flamed with colour again and I hid my head in his chest. "So embarrassed," I muttered shamefully, sucking in a breath as he ran his hands along my back.

"Nah," Patch said. "That was the best entertainment. You know how many things you knocked over?" He tightened his arms.

"Don't remind me!"

Patch laughed loudly again, and the sultry sound reverberated through me. "I love you, Angel," he said with a grin, and kissed my hair.

* * *

><p>Half an hour later, we were finally away from the stupid cookery class building, and parked by the side of a semi-busy road. Patch was leaning against the bonnet of his beloved Jeep, and I was sitting on a wall beside it, eating ice cream from a small, foam tub.<p>

"It's like you've never been fed or something," Patch commented lightly, pointedly looking at how I was shovelling the vanilla between my lips with a crazy smile.

"What? I'm hungry."

"No, really? Never would've guessed," he joked.

"Then you're missing some brain cells or something," I replied, shrugging a shoulder as I scraped the remnants from the bottom of the tub and spooned it into my mouth. He hung his head and scratched the back of it absentmindedly. When he snapped it back up, his signature smirk graced his face. Something in my stomach twisted.

Hopping off the wall, I planned to brush past him and climb into the car. I wanted to go back to the hotel- I was still suffocating in cake mixture and I yearned for the hot water of a shower.

Patch caught my elbow and gently pulled me backwards a step. "You still have flour in your hair," he smirked, stretching up to a curl by my cheek.

"Oh," I said, frozen by the way he was looking at me. His black eyes sent tingles up and down my spine and warmed my face.

He leaned forward, his cool hands on my face. "Let's go," he whispered softly, leaving a long, lingering kiss on my lips before winking and clambering into the car. A jolt of desire trickled through me, and my body felt cold with his absence.

To my right, glued haphazardly to a telephone pole, was a colourful picture of a carnival-circus event. Squinting, I ran my eyes over the details printed on the glossy paper. "Patch!" I called out, turning to look at him through the front window. He cocked his head to the side in question. "It's a carnival!" I announced, a wicked smile taking hold of my expression.

Grimacing, he shook his head defiantly.

"Oh, yeah," I said to myself, dragging my feet around to the passenger side. "We are definitely going."

* * *

><p><strong>So, what'd you think? XD Leave me a review please! :) xx<strong>

**On another note, if any of you have/will/do read my other story, Annabelle, then I've decided it's going on hold. I'll upload my new one pretty soon! :) (Yes, I have way too many stories! XD) So have a look at them if you want! :)**

**THANKS GUYS! See you soon! xx**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hey! Thank you all so much for the response! I love you all! Thank you for everything! Seriously, _THANK YOU!_ I appreciate it so much; all the reviews, alerts, everything. Thank you for the support :) xx**

**Anyways, I wrote this all today. I hate Sundays. This made my Sunday brighter!**

**I hope you all enjoy it, I tried to make it longer! Please review! :D xx**

**IM GONNA UPLOAD MY NEW STORY SOON TOO :D So excited about writing that one.. I don't know why, haha!**

**Anyways, have a great week xxxxx Please review, and thank you all SO MUCH!**

**(Update: hey readers :) sorry, got something to tell ye! I'm sorry if Patch came across a little OOC in this chapter.. but that's what I was kinda going for, you know? I mean, in the books, there's always some danger following Patch and Nora, some doom and gloom preventing them from just.. you know, having _fun_. So, in this story, because there's nothing posing as a danger, Patch is a little more carefree.. And they're able to enjoy themselves more because they're together, alone, in a place no one knows them or will remember them.. Get me? I am sorry if it came across wrong. And thank you so, so much for all the lovely reviews, thank you thank you, I appreciate them so much! :D xxx OH AND, I love how you are all freaking out about the ending.. who ever said I was gonna make him leave? XDD xx)**

* * *

><p>"We're going."<p>

"No."

"We're going."

"No, we're not."

Nora flopped onto the couch melodramatically and pouted her lips. Puffing a wispy curl away from the tip of her nose, she observed me with a puppy dog stare. "Why can't we go?" she whined. "It'll be fun."

Throwing my eyes to heaven, I silently begged God to bury a seed of something else into her mind. _Anything_. Why a carnival, God? Why?

I sat on one of the many stools and met her gave levelly. "You said that last time," I pointed out blandly, and then gestured to the oily cake dough smudges slathered across our clothes. "And look what happened."

Her face scrunched up defensively. "You said it was fun!" she retorted. "You admitted it!"

I held back a laugh, firmly gluing my lips together and maintaining a stern expression. "It was fun watching you tear the place down," I countered, standing up. If I was being honest and about to bare my soul and all that crap, I'd say I had enjoyed the cookery class. Not as a result of any work of its own, but because it made Nora smile and grin like a little troll doll whenever she got something right. Of course, turning the sweetheart teacher into the devil incarnate and leaving a mess in her tracks was purely just a bonus, which I not so secretly appreciated greatly.

Only my Angel could do something like that.

A small spark of idea lighting her eyes, Nora mimicked my actions and stood to her feet. "Tell you what," she said slowly, a knowing smile flowering across her cheeks. "We go to the carnival thing tonight for awhile, then we can do whatever you want." Her footsteps were soft as she slid closer.

"Anything?" I inquired, cocking an eyebrow.

Nora nodded her curly head, near enough now that I could see flour drizzles painting her eyelashes. Grabbing my hands and twining them behind her back, she slipped another step closer. "Yup," she said, glancing up at me with warm grey eyes. "Anything."

Was she trying to-

She locked her arms around my neck and pressed her lips to mine in a long kiss.

Oh.

* * *

><p><strong>Nora's Point of View<strong>

I love showers.

After scrubbing myself clean of the sticky remnants of the cookery class, I hopped out of the shower happily, a huge smile spread across my face. I loved getting my way with things, and I was genuinely excited about going to the carnival.

For once, my curls were defined and shiny, hanging halfway between my shoulders and mid-back. Standing in the mirror after pulling on jean shorts and a purple t-shirt, I arranged them so that they framed my face. After a little spray of to hold them in place, I was set and ready to go.

It was ten minutes later when Patch eventually emerged, dressed head to toe in black bar his t-shirt, which was white.

Biting into the biggest, richest looking apple I had ever seen, I raised an eyebrow at him. "At long last," I snorted. He smirked, slinging a black jacket over his shoulder. "Perfection takes time," he winked, walking over to me as I hoisted myself onto the countertop.

"Maybe so," I said, giving him slit, wondering eyes. "But, then what were _you _doing?"

Patch stalled. A mock look of hurt crossed his Italian features. Clapping a hand over his heart, he frowned at me. "That hurt, Angel."

I grinned around the chunks of soggy apple in my mouth. "So sorry," I chuckled, sliding off the counter. He grabbed my hand eagerly, swallowing it in warmth from his own. A smile played at the corners of my lips. "C'mon," I chirped, discarding the apple into the bin and leading him towards the door.

"Last chance," he grumbled, reluctant but following me easily all the same. "Can we, _please_, do something else?"

Glancing back and up at him with a considering look, I pursed my lips thoughtfully. The frothy ghost of a smile brushed his face. "Only because you said please.." I muttered, stifling a laugh when his eyes lit up from within.

"Seriously?" he grinned, pulling me to a stop outside our door and giving me a hugely grateful expression. I almost wanted to say yes to that face, but instead, I shook my head and poked him in the chest. "Nope!"

"Ugh."

* * *

><p>The carnival was huge.<p>

Grappling for the shiny door handle, I heard Patch chortle at the amazement clear on my face. I ignored him easily, craning my neck to drink in as much of the colourful sight before me. Various rollercoaster's, moulded into twists and loops, loomed way above my head, cradling carts which sped along at such a speed that I thought they would burst into flames. Idly twirling in the background was an intimidating ferris wheel, and scattered haphazardly around the on the gravel ground were multiple food stalls, or game huts. To top it all off though, put the cherry on the pretty cake, there were circus folk meandering about- clowns, men on stilts, women with beards, mimes.

Gripping Patch's hand, "This is so cool," I exclaimed. The line into the carnival was thick and winding, but with a quick nod of acknowledgement at one of the men giving tickets in exchange for money, Patch won us entrance. I shook my head but said no more.

Obeying my olfactory senses which had spiked in response to the melted chocolate fountain in a nearby hut, I began trotting in its direction.

"Where to?" Patch asked, rolling his eyes at the stall with the sweets and chocolate. I suppose it was unusual to go straight to the food, but, hey, I was a growing girl. "To the chocolate fountain!" I answered him happily with a flashed grin. He widened his eyes in curiosity when we stepped into the line.

"Food first?" he wondered.

I shot him a _duh _look over my shoulder and nodded vigorously.

"What do you want?" the bored man standing in the stall questioned once we had reached the front. Behind him, there were shelves upon shelves of sugary goodies, and in front of him, blocking half of his body from view, was a flowing chocolate fountain. Eyes dilating, I glanced around at all the food with disbelief. "Um.."

"I say get the marshmallows," Patch smoothly suggested, nudging my arm and inclining his head towards a woman eating chocolate drizzled marshmallows.

"I'll have that!" I demanded loudly, giving the guy in the stall a grin before thrusting my money at him. I quickly added a please to the end of that statement at the sight of his disgruntled face. "Here you go," he responded after a moment, handing me a warm cup and then continued in a heavily recited tone, "Thank you for coming. Please enjoy the carnival, and have a good night!"

"Thanks!"

We walked for a moment, dodging darting kids and their trailing parents, one make-up tangoed man on multicoloured stilts, a few clowns, and a cluster of balloons that had broken free of their hut.

"You can pick the ride," I said cheerily, stabbing the final marshmallow in my cup and stuffing it into my mouth. Patch shot me an amused look. Cocking an eyebrow, he indicated with his chin to the largest rollercoaster in the fair. "I pick that," he said, an evil smirk tugging his lips up.

My stomach fell at the sight of the monster. Its carts were undoubtedly grazing the underbelly of the moon when they reached the tiptop, and then plummeted downwards towards the stony ground at an alarming velocity.

I squeaked. Patch sneered.

"How about," I spun in a circle, "This!" The hut I was pointing to housed four guns, secured onto the front. We shoot at some moving circles, hit the miniature target in the centre three times, and we win. Simple.

Patch gave the woman working it some money, and she gestured towards two taped on red crosses on the wooden, unstable counter. Standing in my assigned place, I curled my hands around the plastic water gun, and leaned down close to it, shutting one eye and squinting the other to perfect my aim. The tiny target was like a red dot in the distance. I unconsciously crossed my fingers and prayed that my amazing (and nonexistent) shooting skills would materialise, just in time to kick Patch's butt.

Patch did the same, leaning down and looking far too in tune with the gun that I would've liked. Okay, it _was _plastic, but it looked real. Not that I was worried that he might shoot a bullet at me if he had a real one, but I wouldn't put it past him to fire at enemies. He caught my staring and a slow grin spread across his face. "Like what you see?" he asked cockily.

Shaking my head defiantly, I turned away and aimed my gun again. "No, not at all."

The shrill bell, signalling the start of our go, sang and the woman shuffled to the side with a weary expression. "You're on, Angel," Patch said, tossing me a wink before flexing the muscles in his arm and squeezing the trigger.

_Game on_, I thought.

Five circles, each the size of a slightly big plate, stuck to the top of wooden planks began moving up and down and across each other in the back of the stall. All were splattered with various colours, looking like someone had shook ten paint brushes saturated in different coloured paints over them. Exactly in the middle, a circle smaller than the size of my palm was a blood red. The target.

We had one minute.

I squeezed the trigger, trying my best to do it just as I had seen Patch do. He was currently a few feet to my side, expertly directing the string of water at the plates. Already, only six seconds in, his buzzer had gone off madly, announcing to everyone that he had already hit a target.

Tuning out the furious _Mission Impossible _theme music bouncing around, I levelled my cheek with the gun once more and aimed. My moves were erratic as I chased the plates, barely brushing against one or two and never nearing the target of any. Mostly, the water landed in the gaps between the plates.

In the meantime, Patch's buzzer had gone off another four times, much to the dismay of the surprised woman worker. Guess he was winning a fat, furry teddy today.

Pathetically, I half-heartedly willed the water to touch the target. It was stupid to try and beat him anymore- he was clearly incredibly more enhanced with guns. Plastic water ones or not. So decisively, with an conniving grin, I jumped and twisted the contraption between my hands, so that it pointed at him. "You lose, sucker!" I shouted, before squeezing the trigger roughly and aiming at him.

The second that the water hit his face, he turned towards me with a startled expression. Quickly wiping that away, it turned devious. Icy liquid sloshed from his cheeks onto the collars of his jacket and dripped off the ends of his hair.

A booming laugh burst from my chest. I scrambled mindlessly for the trigger again, finding it and pushing on it one more time. The water slid from the ends of Patch's sooty eyelashes.

"That's not fair play," he called out over the music, a smirk gracing his face. In a flash, he sidestepped and twirled the nozzle of his gun towards me. I froze.

"You wouldn't!" My voice was a loud shriek. I dropped my gun like it was a scalding lava rock and bolted to the side, eager for shelter. The closest thing was a round, chubby man with his boyfriend. "Excuse me!" I cried, gripping his shoulder tightly and yanking him in front of my body. Patch continued to follow me with the water gun, a teasing look in his eyes.

"Don't shoot!" I screamed, peeping out from behind the man's back to lean over his shoulder. He desperately tried to fight me off, swatting at me like I was an annoying insect. Patch winked and squeezed. I ducked, grasping the man's shoulders again and cowering behind him. A long flow of profanities sprinkled from the man's mouth, while his boyfriend looked on with an amused smirk.

"You sprayed me with water!" the man shouted hotly.

Patch nodded. "Sorry, I'm trying to get my girlfriend."

Huffing incredulously, the man sent his friend into a bundle of giggles. "And what does-"

I interrupted him. Stupidly, when they had began initiating half-normal conversation, I took it as a sign that safety was regained and I was able to slide out from behind the man. But much to the Greek God's amusement, Patch still possessed the water gun. My eyes bulged. He fired the water.

"_Patch! Don't_!"

He did. Thankfully, my motor skills kicked into overdrive and I was able to dart behind the man again before being soaked. The side of my face was only partially hit. The man, though… well..

"_Damn KIDS!"_ he roared. Sprinting into action, the woman working the stall joined into this too, suddenly and angrily hauling the gun from Patch's hands and flinging a huge panda bear at him. "Go!" she ordered, making shooing motions at him. "Before you get me kicked out!"

Patch caught the toy easily, tucking it under his arm before shooting both simmering adults a calculating glare. "Do you not know how to have fun?" he asked choppily, grabbing my hand when I sheepishly shuffled to his side.

The shadows behind a nearby stall melted us into silhouettes.

"I won you a panda," Patch state proudly, pushing me back a step to throw the teddy into my arms. The bear was warm, from being snuggled into Patch's side, and soft. A grin lit my face, and I tilted it up to glance at him. "He's so cute!"

With telltale confidence, Patch studied my expression and crossed his arms over his chest. "Thanks," he said, winking a dark eye at me. "So I've been told."

"Shut up," I groaned, the smile still slapped on my face. "I was talking about Fergus!"

Patch's expression fell. Staring bemusedly at me, he weakly indicated to the toy. "Fergus?" he breathed. I nodded.

There was a moment of silence. "Fergus?" he inquired again.

Rolling my eyes at his lack of brain cells, I clutched the teddy to my chest and stroked his head possessively. "Yes. Fergus," I confirmed, emphasising my point with a kiss to the toy's head. I pretended not to be affected by the dusty fluff when I pulled away.

Obviously, this didn't work because Patch stared at me with a slightly confused and amused fire in his eyes. "What are you doing?" he asked. I shook my head and shrugged, glancing away to focus on a puddle on the ground.

"You're making weird faces, Angel."

"No, I'm not."

He smirked broadly. "You ar-"

"_Achoo_!" The panda slipped from my arms. Patch threw his head back in laughter and in the inky black, the sound was sultry and comforting. I scrambled for Fergus and pulled him to me again. "'Scuse me," I mumbled, reaching up to my face and gently rubbing my nose with my sleeve. Stupid dust..

Feeling arms encircle my waist, a surprised noise left my lips and Patch walked me closer. "Wanna go on the big, bad scary ride now, Angel?" he questioned hopefully, holding onto me with one hand while using the other to carefully manoeuvre a curl from my face.

"No," I admitted fearfully, hugging Fergus tightly. Using the hand he was sweeping my hair away with, Patch cupped my cheek. "It looks fun," he said quietly.

"No, it doesn't," I protested in a low tone. "It really doesn't."

Gently, he pushed my face upwards. "You can close your eyes," he said softly, and then brushed his lips against mine.

Before Patch dragged me to his most anticipated ride, we made our way through the carnival. Patch tried three more games (by trying I mean winning constantly-not that I'd ever admit that, we didn't need to feed his already inflated ego). I tried one, where I was supposed to hook a duck. The number on the underneath of the duck matched a sparkly bag. And in my sparkly bag was a potato. A potato.

We played on the bumper cars, which was by a long mile the most enjoyable moment of the night, because when Patch accidentally slammed into a pre-teen, he proceeded to receive a shaking fist and screaming mother. He looked like a child being sent to time out.

It was half eleven, cold and the carnival was still thriving by the time we stepped into the line of the largest rollercoaster, which was ever so imaginatively named_ The Big Rollercoaster_.

In my arms sat Fergus, a squashed looking goose teddy, the sparkly potato bag, a fluffy lion, and a small frog. I left the best for Patch to carry- an enormous pink elephant sporting a blue and white frilly polka dot dress. "Ellie elephant really suits you," I joked, nudging Patch in the shoulder when two teenagers began giggling wildly at him.

He shot me a quietening look, but all I could do was beam. "Better watch yourself, Angel," he said, and I unconsciously mirrored his step forward. "We're up."

My eyes popped open wider. "We're what-"

"Boy, you can't bring that thing up there with you!" A scratchy male voice spoke over mine. Head snapping up, my eyes trailed along the metal steps of the rollercoaster's platform to see a middle-aged man squinting at Patch. "And you too, sweetheart," he said, pointing to me. "No stuffed animals on the ride."

I felt my heart lighten. Hallelujah! There was a God!

Turning to Patch, a smile captured my mouth. "Well, looks like we can't go on.." I said, making a special effort to pour sadness into my tone.

A familiar smirk spread over his face. For once, it injected dread into the pit of my stomach. "Nah, we can still go," he assured me, prying my arms from the toys and taking them from me. "There's a place over here where we can leave them." He tossed the round bundle of teddies and toys into an area marked _Possessions_, and then slid his fingers between mine.

The man showed us to our cart. It was in the shape of an angry crocodile's mouth, with razor sharp teeth and sunken, black eyes. After reluctantly sitting into the slippery, mud green seat, the man buckled me in. The seatbelt was like that of a child's car seat- over the shoulders, between the legs and tied at my stomach. Despite my protests and attempts to stop him, Patch unbuckled his, instead opting to just hold the bar that clicked into place over our legs.

"Calm down," he said for the umpteenth time, clasping my hand which I was using to try and retie him in. "I don't need the seatbelt."

"You do!" I insisted, shaking out of his hold.

"Don't."

The cart lurched forward, leaving my heart behind. The sound of rusty metal on metal grinding against each other as the gears kicked in caused my stomach to twist uncomfortably. A loud _tick-tick-tick _flooded my ears as we began moving, jerkily and unevenly, but moving all the same. I was bounced up and down in my seat.

Inching as far as I could to the side of my seat, I latched onto Patch's arm. "If I die," I hissed, gulping with a rubbery throat as I eyed the metal conveyors start on the steep slope upwards. "I'm going to come back to haunt you."

"Is that a threat or a promise?" he chuckled.

The cart choked. Stumbling over a rock lodged somewhere in one of the wheels, it shouted out in a long moan and then chugged on roughly. I heard the rock fall to the ground. It sounded far.

I buried my face in Patch's jacket, breathing in the distinct smell of mint and the scent that was just _him_. "Definitely a threat," I managed to respond, my voice heavily muffled.

On the descent into the sky, which seemed to take a century, my blood continued to run colder and colder. Hearing my heartbeat loud and clear in my ears, I bit the insides of my cheeks to keep from whimpering. Patch attempted to point "cool things" out to me, like how the people in the carnival now looked like ants, or how the stars looked, but I was too busy holding down the food in my belly to be interested.

"Are we nearly at the bottom?" I asked. The fear in my system morphed my voice into something it normally wasn't.

I felt Patch shake his head. An icy fist gripped my heart. "We're nearly to the top," he said happily. I wriggled closer and clumped his jacket together in my fingers. "Relax, Angel," he whispered into my hair, and then wrapped an arm around my shoulders.

"Think of something else."

"Like what?" I quipped, feeling the cart straighten out. Which meant that soon, we were going to have to go down again. The thought made my chest constrict.

"Like.. Bed."

"Bed?"

"Bed," Patch nodded, tightening his hold on me.

"Why would I want to think abut bed?"

"_Well_.. We-"

I gasped. "Never mind! Don't tell me!" He laughed loudly. Very loudly. It shook the cart violently and only stopped slightly when I complained grumpily about it.

We both fell into silence. I internally begged God to rescue me, and stayed like superglue to Patch's side. He hummed a song deep in his chest and played with the ends of my hair.

I thought I was about to faint when Patch interrupted my inner turmoil by shaking me gently. "Angel," he said softly. "Look at me." I glanced up, my breath catching in my throat because all I could see was the black sky.

"Don't freak," Patch continued, grazing the backs of his fingers along my cheek. "But we're going down in… well, now."

The cart tilted forward. The ground was so far away. So far. My insides were left floating in the cold air at the top of the rollercoaster. . From the way my hair whipped around my face, I was sure my cheeks would be wind burnt. A scream collected in my throat and escaped my lips. It was so high pitched and shrill that I flinched. I fought the urge to be sick.

And then it was over. The cart stopped. The metal bar groaned and moved from our laps to snap back into place. I faintly heard Patch climbing out and beckoning to me to follow. But my muscles weren't listening to the instructions from my brain. A bubble of hysterical giggles twirled in my chest.

* * *

><p><strong>Patch's Point of View<strong>

Nora dissolved into laughter. Just like that. Like someone flicked a switch, her terrified expression melted into something softer.

"Nora?" I spoke uneasily. Still seated in the rollercoaster cart, her curly head twisted to meet my gaze. Call me crazy, but the way her eyes were large made me consider if she was high.

"Are you alright?" I asked, reaching a hand to help her when she began stumbling out.

"I'm okay!" she said in a sing-song tone, stepping completely out and giving me a wide smile.

"What's so funny?" I asked unsurely.

"I don't know! I'm so happy we're off that thing!" she cheered. I was caught off guard when she jumped at me and wrapped her arms around my neck, but, hey, who's complaining?

* * *

><p><strong>Nora's Point of View<strong>

On the drive back to the hotel, I felt giddy with pride. I survived the rollercoaster! Never again would I even contemplate climbing back on it, because it frightened my skeleton out of its skin, but at least I was able to say I _had _got on it.

Patch was quite happy too, a constant smile plastered across his face as he drove. He tittered along quietly to the love song pouring from the radio into the car.

A thought hit me.

Blushing furiously, I turned away and pressed my forehead to the glass of the cool window. No way. We couldn't. I wouldn't… Could we?

I sneaked a glance, ever so slightly turning my head and peeking through my eyelashes at him. Ah, he really was the definition of beautiful. All smooth, tanned skin and warmth. I bit my lip, slowly twisting away again. We had a whole hotel room.. It was so pretty. For once, we were completely and utterly alone. I trusted him. I loved him.. I wonder, could we-

"What's going on in that head?"

I jumped a little, startled from my thoughts. "Um, nothing?" I answered.

Patch raised an eyebrow, clearly not believing this. "What's wrong, Angel?" he wondered, pinning me with penetrating look.

"Nothing," I repeated, giving him a smile. I prayed it didn't look nervous.

"You sure?"

"I'm sure."

He rolled his eyes. "Tell me when you're ready then," he breathed with a chuckle, and stopped the car. He stepped out and I realised we were back at the hotel.

* * *

><p>Patch carried the toys up the stairs, not in the least bit ashamed of the curious and cautious looks he was getting from other guests. I suppose it was unusual to see a tall, dark and handsome walking around with ten thousand kid's teddies. I trailed behind him, wringing my hands anxiously and thinking things over and over far too much.<p>

_Shut up, mind_. _I don't need your opinions right now, I'm nervous enough. _

When we got to our door, the hallway was dimly lit by wall lamps spaced periodically along the wallpapered walls. Patch let each of the teddies drop to the floor. "I think I lost the keys," he said with a laugh, and dug his hand into his pocket.

_Okay. Now, or never. _

Throwing caution to the wind, I stepped between him and the door. He looked up from his rummaging, a confused glint in his eye. "Wha-"

I grabbed his jacket with both of my hands and pulled him down. His eyes widened dramatically, but he didn't object in any way when I crashed my lips to his. I heard him fumbling with the keys and took the moment to snake my arms around his neck.

"Got it," he said, and twisted the door handle. The second the door was shut again behind, he grabbed me around the waist and backed me into the door. Pressing his body flush against mine, he brought his mouth to my ear. "What's gotten into you, Angel?" he whispered in a low tone. I tangled my fingers in his hair and dragged his lips back to mine. "I've been thinking," I admitted in a broken voice.

"Hm?"

"Yeah."

"About?"

"I love you," I blurted. He smiled triumphantly, like he had won a huge prize in a raffle. "You better," he whispered huskily. His breath crawled along my cheeks, and the wink he sent me released a looping curl of desire in my gut. Holding my gaze, he pressed his lips back to mine. I melted under his touch. He moved his hands along my spine, and with each heated, slight movement, he awakened another nerve inside of me that I didn't know I had. I wasn't even embarrassed of the more than loud moan that quivered in the back of my throat. His fingers slipped under the material of my t-shirt, and I felt cool knuckles graze the skin just below my bellybutton. I pressed myself as near as possible to him, flexing my fingers in his hair and tugging his face impossible closer. Somehow, I seemed to manage it. When he nipped at my bottom lip gently, I opened and he slid his tongue inside.

The taste exploded in my mouth. Sliding his hands from my back to my thighs, he kissed me so lustfully that the world around us spun and I couldn't see it anymore. My eyes slid shut and I wrapped my legs around his waist as he simultaneously lifted me from the floor. The keys fell with a metallic thump. His hands burned the bare skin of my thighs while he walked into the bedroom.

The air and atmosphere around us was heavy with tangible desire. Laying me down on the bed, he tiptoed along and hovered over me. A torn expression lingered on his face. Squirming because of the new feelings tumbling around inside of me, I palmed his cheeks and brought him down again. He opened his mouth easily and began kissing me, but I could sense the hesitation.

"What is it?" I managed to say, breaking from his lips to trail along his jaw. Call me needy, but I could swear it was not humanly possible to break contact.

"I.." He flattened his hands to the bed on either side of me and pushed up so that he could look me in the eye. "We should stop now," he said, breathing heavily onto my face.

"Why?" I whined, running my fingers down his back. And to think I thought this would make him happy.. To silence his talking, I sat up a little and chased his mouth. He kissed me with such passion, need and hunger, that if I wasn't lying down, I would have toppled over.

"You're not ready for this," he murmured between kisses. "We should stop.."

A small slice of my conscience agreed, but it was just that- a small part. Gnawing nervously at my lip, I shook my head. "I can't," I confessed, and grabbed his head again. "Angel.." He groaned into my mouth, and I wasn't sure if it was because of what we were doing, or because he wanted it to stop.

Finally, after tossing away his reluctance, he climbed fully on top of me again and ducked his head to mine. "You stop me when you want, okay?" he said seriously, capturing my gaze solely. I nodded, and with a primal growl rumbling in his chest, he crushed his lips to mine.

And then the place caught fire. Literally. Well, at least I thought so.

An alarm bell, shriller and louder than I could ever imagine a sound to be, screeched out and made me jolt with fright. It reverberated around the entire room, bouncing off the walls and furniture and back to my ears where it made my eardrums ring.

Patch muttered something about bad timing and jumped off of the bed. "Wait here," he instructed, turning towards the door. "I'm gonna check it out."

"What?" I cried, scrambling to get off the bed after him. "It's a fire!"

He paused to kiss me softly on the temple. "It's probably only a drill," he said soothingly, and squeezed my hand. "Wait here, Angel."

"Be careful!" He smirked at my scrunched up face and left.

* * *

><p><strong>Patch's Point of View<strong>

Running a hand through my hair, I attempted to shake the image of Nora's flushed face from my mind. _Just for now_, I told myself, _just find out why the stupid alarm is sounding and then you can go back to her. _

I took the stairs two at a time, weaving through the many couples and families hoarding small sets of luggage down the steps in their pyjamas. Faintly, over the bustle in the reception of the hotel, I could hear fire engine alarms. But, that was just protocol, right?

Or..

"Excuse me, Sir." A man dressed in the hotel's uniform clamped a hand on my shoulder and began steering me to the doorway. "There's a fire and you need to leave with everyone else." He pointed a finger to the wad of guests who were now done with the stairs and filtering outside half frantically. He gave me a firm push. I cocked an eyebrow at this and shrugged him off.

"Alright," I said tightly. "I just need to go back upstairs and get my-"

"No." The man shook his head as he interrupted, a stern expression on his face. "This is a serious fire. Second floor. There's no way-"

My jaw unhinged and brushed the carpet. "The _second _floor?" I hissed. The man nodded, discreetly clicking his fingers at three security men who immediately kicked into action and began marching over.

"Get your hands off me," I barked, stepping out of his reach when he placed his beefy hand on my shoulder. "I need to go upstairs and get my girlfri-"

The three security men grabbed me roughly, and though I could easily shove and kick them off, I was too close to the doors and within seconds, they'd hauled me outside and relocked them.

A long string of profanities spilled from my mouth. Beginning to pace worriedly by the large doors, my hands gripped my hair. The crowd was held back behind a taped line, while firemen in their clusters trickled in through the only doors. How could something like this happen so fast? Glancing up, I caught sight of a curdle of smoke slipping through the cracks of the second floor windows. I recognised two of the windows as the ones from our living room, and with a loudly shouted curse, jogged around the back of the building.

Thank the Lords, there was a ladder secured to the brick wall. It came apart in my hands, rust crumbling between my fingers as I scaled it haphazardly, eyes all the time on the window to our bathroom. Standing on the wide ledge outside it, I grabbed the frame and scooted inside. My lungs were instantaneously filled with thick, dark smoke.

"Nora?" I shouted out over the crackling roar of nearby fire, and covered my stinging eyes with my arm. After feeling my way along the wall, I found the door. Nudging it open, I quickly navigated my way to the bedroom before my entire body was wracked by a hair raising cough.

"Patch?" a weak voice, thick with fear, responded. "Nora?" I repeated, a relieved breath gushed from my lips at the sound of her voice. "Where are you, Angel?"

"Over here." No, her voice wasn't weak. That was just a trick of my mind. Right? Please.

I found her crouched beside the bed, her face buried in between her knees as she dragged in ragged breaths. "I tried to get out," she mumbled incoherently when I picked her up. "I swear." She tucked her face into the space between my shoulder and neck.

This is when the guilt hit me. I should have taken her with me. It was stupid, _stupid_, to leave my Angel here, on her own, in a strange hotel, when there was a fire alarm going off. Drill, or not, I was stupid.

"It's okay, Angel," I said into her silky hair, easily finding my way back to the bathroom window now I knew the way blinded. I swallowed the noise of surprise threatening to break free when my eyes landed on the fire licking its way hungrily along the hallway. Metres from us. I didn't want to frighten Nora further.

"Nora, I need you to hold on really, really tight, okay?"

Nora nodded lightly and obeyed, firmly circling her arms and legs around me as I shifted her to free my hands. Once I had a grip with one hand beneath her leg, I carefully climbed out of the huge window and onto the ledge. "You're doing great, Angel." I kissed the top of her head. "Keep it up, we're almost there."

I almost died at least five times whilst climbing down the ladder. We weren't scarily high off the ground, but with each rung down, Nora slipped. Finally, when my feet touched stone, I let the breath I didn't know I was holding prisoner out in a large exhale.

There wasn't anything important in the hotel room. I had my wallet, keys and phone in my pocket, along with Nora's as she had stashed it there earlier. So instead of putting my trembling and uneasy girlfriend through hell by going back to the hotel to suffer through the fire engine scene outside, I carried her to my car.

"Are you okay?" I asked lamely, getting into the car after putting a shaking Nora into the passenger seat. The smell of smoke radiating from her clothes filled the car. "I think so," she sniffed, peeking up through her eyelashes at me. I shrugged out of my jacket to throw it around her shoulders, making sure to envelope her completely in it. She fell against my chest and breathed in deeply.

I couldn't explain the relief pumping through my veins. She wasn't hurt. The guilt, though.. It was like a poisonous IV leaking bad trains of thought into my system.

An acidic notion caused a knife to twist in my back. _Maybe Nora deserves someone who can actually take care of her.. _After all we'd been through, I had believed I was able to protect her. But that night showed me the true colours of the situation. I couldn't even keep this pure, innocent angel safe from human things like fire. Even when we were clearly alerted by an alarm.

A suffocating breath strangled itself in my throat. "Nora," I said softly, and she looked up at me with her wide, still uneasy grey eyes.

"Maybe we should go home, Angel.."

I didn't deserve her.

* * *

><p><strong>Phew! That was long!<strong>

**I hope you all enjoyed it, and please leave a review, if it's no trouble, of course! :) xx THANKS GUYS! Much love! xx**


	6. Chapter 6

**Hey! Thanks again everyone for the response :) This is a quick update because I felt so mean about the last one.. Couldn't just leave it hanging like that, you know? For that reason, this is more of a filler kinda thing.**

**THANKS EVERYONE! LOVE YOU ALL!**

**Please leave a review anyway, I'd really appreciate it, if its no trouble :) xx**

**Enoy reading! Hope I cleared things up!**

* * *

><p><strong>Nora's Point of View<strong>

My chest ached. Pulsing lungs constricted by cloudy smoke still finding its way up my scorched trachea and through my lips. With watery eyes, sore from the polluted air, I curled my legs into my chest and wrapped my arms around them tightly, protectively. Resting the tip of my chin on my knees, I concentrated on the heady, mixed scent of worn leather and mint from Patch's jacket.

Heavy eyelids drooping, I felt myself slipping into sleep. A yawn escaped my mouth and I snuggled deeper into the soft contours of the jacket. It was so blissful. The manipulative fingers of unconsciousness reaching out to me, beckoning to me with velvety words, were all too inviting to resist. Their tender touch soothed the crackling fire in my chest, moistened my throat and stilled my spinning mind. Thoughts and ideas were silenced, subtly held behind walls in my mind while the fingers worked their magic, leading me deeper, deeper into the black ahead.

A final puff of threadlike, misty smoke drifted through my lips, and the fingers won.

"Angel, you can't go to sleep." I knew that voice. I knew that voice better than I knew any other sound. The familiarity of it briefly pierced my hazy conscience, but too lulled by the intoxicating smell and ease of pain, I didn't open my eyes.

Yet, the source of the voice persisted. He placed a cool hand to my warm cheek, using two of his fingers to sweep the hair splayed across my face away. The gentleness of the act made a smile tug on my lips.

"I know you're tired," he said softly, his chocolate voice as quiet as the wind. "But, you can't go to sleep. We need to make sure you're okay first."

_I am okay_, I wanted to say, _I'm fine. _

I vaguely heard him shifting around, repositioning himself before the air calmed again. I was under within seconds.

The voice wasted no time in bribing me back into the world. "Wake up." He insisted, stressing his point by placing a feather light hand on my knee. "You need to stay awake, Angel," he whispered. The concern in his voice made me uneasy. I wanted to scare it away, send it scampering to the hills.

"Can you open your eyes?"

Could I?

Wanting nothing more than to reassure him, I ordered my brain to slide open my eyes. Slowly, they inched back, and I cringed from the harsh light ahead.

Dark, almost black eyes filled my vision, and the worry there stole my attention instantly. Patch smiled, a genuine smile which leaked warmth into his expression. Head ducked inside the passenger side door, he allowed cool night air to trickle inside. "Sorry," he said in an apologetic tone. He carefully pried one of my hands from its strained position around my leg and kissed the palm. "I know you want to sleep, but it's not really safe considering you're filled up with smoke."

I nodded, understanding this, but still opened my mouth to foolishly request ten minutes more. Just ten minutes. That couldn't inflict any harm, right? Not with Patch sitting next to me.

The words formed on my lips, but my voice didn't come. A panicked look twisted my expression at the realisation. It was there. In the back of my throat, but parted my lips in a croaky wheeze. Noticing quickly, Patch frowned deeply. "It's just the after affects," he reassured us both, putting his hand back to my cheek. I leaned into it and sucked in a long, calming breath.

"Wait," he mumbled, abruptly pulling away and leaning across me. He snapped open the glove compartment and plucked out a bottle of water. "Drink this," he told me, untwisting the cap of the foggy bottle and putting it into my hands. The icy burn of the water on my parched throat jolted me further into consciousness. Hissing, I tore it from my mouth and almost threw it back at Patch.

"Nora," he said firmly, unsettling me with the use of my actual name. "Drink the water."

_It hurts. _

Patch ran a hand through his messy hair, an uneasy glint etched into his eyes. "It won't hurt after a while," he promised, taking my hand again to curl my steely fingers around the bottle. "It'll help get your voice back."

_It better.. _

Gritting my teeth so much that they sparked, the nails of my free hand dug into the plush seat as I tipped the bottle backwards. It stung, is all I can say.

I disposed of the container by chucking it into the pitch black backseats and wiped the back of my hand across my face. Patch watched me studiously. He bent his leg at the knee and placed it just inside of the silent car, so that he was now tilting in further.

"How are you feeling now?" he asked, sincere eyes searching my face.

"Better," I admitted. The tone of my voice was scratchy, like I had smoked four too many cigarettes, but after the earlier fright, I was more than pleased with it.

Patch returned my smile, a smirk building across his face. "Head, shoulders, knees and toes intact?" he questioned seriously, though with a teasing sparkle in his eye.

"Check," I grunted.

"What's your name?"

"Nora Grey."

"Age?"

"Seventeen."

"Smartass," Patch drawled, winking. He put a finger to his chin in thought. "My name?"

"Patch Cipriano," I answered methodically, giving him a roll of my eyes.

He chuckled in amusement at that, shaking his head. I smiled tiredly while he sobered. "You're sure that you're okay?" he asked, lowering his voice so much so that I had to strain to hear him. When I did, I sighed. "I'm fine," I told him honestly, snatching his hand and squeezing it lightly. "Just tired. Can I go to sleep now? Or are you going to wake me up again?"

His expression wavered, switching between cautious and giving over and over. Finally, he let a breezy laugh leave him and tickle my nose. "If you promise that you're alright," he said. "Then you can sleep."

A grin flowered dramatically across my stiff cheeks. "I promise!" I cried, flinging my arms around his neck and yanking him close. The shout I instantly regretted because the sandpapery feel of my throat spiked, and I trailed off as a coughing fit took hold of my body. "Whoa," Patch whistled, cringing away with a sour expression.

"Hey!" I moaned, hands grappling at my throat.

He smirked hugely, sending jitters through the pit of my stomach, and patted my back.

* * *

><p><strong>Patch's Point of View<strong>

"Hey, Patch?"

I nodded in answer to her questioning tone as I climbed into the drivers seat, pulling the door shut behind me and pretending not to notice when she winced at the loud noise. Note to self, stay quiet around Nora for the next few days.

"Will you stay with me?" she wondered.

Turning to her, I raised my eyebrow. "Yeah," I answered, all too quickly. "Where else would I be going?"

Nora lifted a shoulder and let it drop feebly. After forcing an exhausted smile onto her pale face, she spoke. "Just in case I wake up and you're gone somewhere," she explained. "I don't want to have to freak out."

What the..? How did she..?

I fought the emotions on my face and in my eyes from conveying my secret thoughts. It chilled me how accurate and to the point Nora was sometimes. Like now, the way she was looking me straight in the eye. How her drowsy, soft expression was transforming into something much colder and harder, hinting to the fact she was on to me.

"Patch," she said tightly. "What are you thinking?"

"Nothing, I just-"

"You just what?" she snapped, instantly defensive. This shocked me slightly, normally we would beat around the bush for a full five minutes before getting to the root of the problem.

Dragging a hand down my face, I prayed that she would fall asleep right this second and wake up completely oblivious to our current conversation. Not my Angel, though. "Patch?" she probed, her voice a growing fire. "Tell me what you were thinking."

I sneaked a look at her, and was forced to swallow back my surprise. Her eyes were slits, condescending and judgemental as she glared harshly in my direction. As she was always on the mark with things, I decided it would be much better to stay as close to the truth as possible.

"I was worried," I confessed, jaw clicking because I hated admitting feelings and all that stuff. "It was my fault that you stayed in the hotel room," I continued, flexing my fingers around the steering wheel. "It was my fault you got hurt, so I figured I needed to-"

"So you were going to run away?"

My head snapped to the side to glance at her. "No!" I retorted, eyebrows all but disappearing into my hair. "I just thought.. I mean.."

"Spit. It. Out."

A draining sigh slid through my lips. "I couldn't keep you safe from a fire, Angel," I muttered, unfamiliar with my quiet, empty voice. "Even when a fire alarm went off."

There was a moment of smothering silence before Nora squealed in outrage. "So you took it upon yourself to take all the blame and play martyr and _leave _me?" she yelped, a series of different looks crossing her features- hurt, surprise, anger. Mostly anger.

I shook my head. "No. I was going to take you home and tell you there."

"Patch, it was a fire," Nora reasoned in a solid snap. "If I had died there, which I didn't, it was only smoke, it wouldn't have been your fault."

"No-"

"_Listen _to me," she growled. The response died on my lips as I met her unnerving gaze. She pursed her lips. "I'm always going to be in danger. Walking out my front door is dangerous." Her voice grazed on a hiss. "There's no changing it- being a human is dangerous. You need to realise that."

"I do-"

"And if you think you'll leave whenever you feel I'm in danger that you can't help, then do it now. Just go."

* * *

><p><strong>Nora's Point of View<strong>

_Stupid, stupid, stupid, why! Why did he have to be so honourable and mighty? _

"And if you think you'll leave whenever you feel I'm in danger that you can't help, then do it now. Just go." The words resulted in a gutted feeling in my stomach. I bit my lip, crossing my arms sternly over my chest.

_Please don't go.. _

"Angel."

I felt him run his fingertips along my upper arm, meandering them down the material of his jacket until he reached my hand, where he laced his fingers through mine. He gently rubbed his thumb in soothing circles, leaving the atmosphere in the car heavy with unsaid, untouched thoughts. Looking at our twined fingers, I was sure that I trusted him. But still, I was terrified that.. that.. I was sure that I would crumble if he left.

"I'm not going to leave you," he said. Sliding my gaze from our hands to his face, I saw the truthfulness evident in his soulful eyes and open expression. And then, in a much quiet way, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for even considering it."

Just like that, the tense knots evaporated. The worry and well, fear, which was previously leaching my system, washed away in one go, leaving me with only pleasant emotions and tired eyes. I should have suspected of Patch that he'd blame himself. Silly boy, he didn't physically force me to stay in the room. Resisting the urge to roll my eyes, I hastily made a mental note to give him a serious talk on being melodramatic and then on never leaving me.

Smiling up at him, I scrambled like a wobbly toddler across the leather seating and tucked myself uninvited into his warm side. He brought his arm around me tightly and kicked out his legs. "We're good?" he inquired, resting his chin on my head as I cuddled myself into a ball, already seeking the confines of slumber.

"We're good," I mumbled groggily. He tightened his arm around me in an affectionate manner, and I fell asleep with a wide, goofy grin on my lips.

* * *

><p><strong>Sorry if it's so short, just wanted to clear things up. I hope to update soon enough! Hope you enjoyed, please leave a review if you can and have a great week everyone!<strong>

**THANKS AGAIN! xx :) xx lots of love!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Hey! Finally figured out what the problem was. I had too many docs already uploaded, so it wouldn't leave me upload anymore, but it wasn't telling me that.. SO yeah. Partly my stupidity, partly Fanfic's lack of telling me stuff. XD (God, that's great English, huh?) **

**ANYWAYS, here's chapter 7. I hope you all enjoy it, and I would be seriously appreciative if you could drop me a review. Or two. JOKE! Haha, enjoy, tell me what you think if it's no trouble, please and thank you very much!**

**THANK YOU FOR THE RESPONSE TO THE LAST CHAPTER! I'm really grateful for it, so thank you. xx :) **

**And lastly.. If I don't update beforehand... HAPPY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE! I wish you all a very, very, very merry Christmas and a safe, and happy New Year! Stay safe and careful in the bad weather, and I hope you all _really_ enjoy your holidays! xxxxx**

**For now, bye my lovely readers! Lots of love xxx :) :) **

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><p><strong>Nora's Point of View<strong>

Awaking tucked up like a snug caterpillar in my familiar bed at home shouldn't have been a surprise. And yet, it was.

I sat up with a start, and drank in a quick glance of the shadowy room. _Alone_, I noted with a sour grimace. Pushing aside the bed covers and throwing my legs over the side of the mattress, I peeled my upper body from the sunken pillows and stood. I was still fully dressed, -thank god, because I couldn't remember coming home- but now also sporting a frown, which crinkled my forehead.

"Thanks for the warning, Patch," I muttered disdainfully under my breath. Trudging my way to the bathroom, I let a sigh fall from my lips.

Once shiny and clean, I hopped out of the shower, into the moist, cold air and pulled on some fresh clothes, which I found folded into the cupboard.

"So you two finally returned, huh?" _Vee?_

"We weren't gone that long," Patch scoffed in reply. "Calm down." _Uh..?_

"I still thought she was almost _dead_!" Vee yelped. An image of her with tightly crossed arms and a foot tapping against the floor shot through my mind, and I shook my head lightly. Vee and her dramatics.

The pair turned to look at me at my spontaneous materialisation in the doorway of the kitchen. "Hi," I squeaked quietly, averting my gaze from Vee's hot stare to Patch's smirking face. "Morning, Angel," he said, giving me a secret wave of his hand from his seated position on one of the chairs. I couldn't help a smile back at him, relieved that he in fact hadn't left, but managed to tone down the full grin playing at the corners of my lips.

"Nora!" Vee cried, her irritated expression withering and trickling into gladness. My eyes snapped back to hers just in time to catch her as she pummelled herself into my arms. "I'm so glad you're back!" she admitted, squeezing me around the middle.

"Hi Vee," I laughed, giving her a hug in return before pushing her back gently. "I'm happy to see you too."

"Seriously?"

Patch grunted a noise of boredom and leaned his elbow on the counter. Glancing over Vee's shoulder as she grasped me again, I caught the sarcastic roll of his eyes. My oh-so-lovely friend noticed this distraction, and oh-so-timely tightened her hold on me. "Seriously," I answered breathlessly, opening my mouth like a fish to rake in a breath of air.

Fractionally satisfied with this, Vee leaned away… only to snatch up my wrist from my side and straighten my arm in front of her narrowed eyes. "What're you doing?" I asked, tugging my limb from her fingers.

"Inspecting for injuries," she informed me in a matter-of-fact tone.

A guttural growl sounded from the defensive Fallen Angel in the room. With her back to him, a pleased smirk played on Vee's face. One I frowned disapprovingly at. "Not funny," I mumbled in response to her, finally succeeding in escaping her clutches.

Vee pinned me with a silencing stare. "Wasn't meant to be," she said simply, shrugging as she grabbed my chin between her two fingers and moved my face to the left and then to the right. My cheeks flamed with colour. "That's enough," I snapped, irritably swatting at her hand and taking a mountain step backwards.

"I agree," Patch chimed in lithely.

I shot him a look, communicating with my eyes that his input was definitely not helping Vee's anger. As an unhelpful reply, he lifted a shoulder and let it drop, his hard gaze softening like it was too hard to glare back at me. Though I knew I shouldn't, because he was aggravating my friend, my lips tweaked in the corners at this.

Patch's eyebrow twitched up as his mouth grew into one of those dizzyingly attractive smirks. A flash of the night before, when we were so close to.. you know, fireworks and all that, danced through my mind. And a different kind of warmth tickled my cheeks. Almost as if tuned into my hormones, he winked a suggestive black eye and let loose a handful of butterflies in my stomach.

A forced cough made me blink sheepishly, and unlock my gaze from his.

"Nora, can I talk to you alone?" Vee's voice was steely, her feigned smile brittle while she glanced between the two of us. My shoulders slumped, but I slid my stare back to hers without delay. "Sure," I answered after a moment. "Patch stay here." She followed me into the living room, and shut the door loudly behind us.

And then she let rip. Not literally, because, well, that would be disgusting… And okay, maybe I was being harsh saying she let rip because it really wasn't that dramatic, but she did start laying it on.

First, she threw her two hands in the air. "Nora," she whined, bringing one flailing fist to her hip and perching it there. "We've been off school for like, what, the last two years?"

"Almost a week," I corrected in a calm tone. Once sitting on the plush couch, I curled my legs in underneath me and met her gaze level-headedly. "Not quite, but almost." She, rather literally, fell onto the other end of the lump of furniture, and sarcastically rewarded me three times with a roll of her eyes before speaking again. "Two years," she mumbled, showing me one hand palm up, as if she was displaying something. "Almost a week but _not quite but almost_." She did the same with her other, and then her gaze found mine pointedly.

I cocked an eyebrow in question.

Vee wiggled the fingers of each of her hands. "Same thing!" she snapped. "Two years, almost a week, I don't care! You still abandoned me for Patch."

"Abandoned you?" I scoffed, pulling a face. "Really?"

"Really," she nodded.

I leaned forward and mimicking me, she dug out of her pocket the best puppy dog face she could muster. "Nora, I was so lonely," she said, her eyes growing wide and saucer like. She even added a sniffling sniff for effect. "How can I ever make it up to you, Vee?" I replied in the most realistic soothing tone I could manage, and reached across to cover her trembling hand with my own. I was obviously only acting, and in a way mocking her, but strangely I was unsure if she realised this.

Her face instantly brightened. Straightening up, her lips puckered into an excited smile. "You could do something for me," she suggested in a sly tone. Oh, boy. I knew that tone well..

Just as quick as I had leaned in, I tilted back from her like she had suddenly become infected with a contagious disease. "What..?" I mumbled hesitantly, feeling a flicker of unease in my stomach at the growing anticipation in her gaze.

"Well, it's more like do something _with _me!" she chirped.

Again, the most inspiringly smart answer jumped to the tip of my tongue. "What?" I repeated lamely.

"_Well_.." Vee wriggled her eyebrows, and flashed me a hopeful grin. "There's this summer party on tonight for all the people in our grade in this popular guy's house and it'd be really loser like if I went on my own, so I was wondering if you'd pretty, _pretty _please come with me?"

Except it sounded more like a foreign language, such as gibberish or Ancient Greek, as she both started and finished the sentence in one breath.

"A house party?"

"A house party," she confirmed. And then hastily tacked a reminder to the end. "Only because you totally left me on my own for the last two years."

"Almost a week-"

"Whatever!" she interrupted impatiently. She scooted on her backside closer and beamed hugely. "It'll be so much fun, babe.. Come on, please?"

I took a moment to think this through. Eventually meeting her eyes, I was sure to keep my gaze cold on hers. "And going to this party with you would mean I'm completely off the hook?"

"Yep!"

I sighed, tiredly rubbing my hand over my face. "Fine, I'll go."

Vee's squeal of joy was euphoric as she leapt and crushed me into putty in her arms for the second time that morning. "This is going to be so much fun!" she exclaimed. Her legs jerked up and down in excitement, and I was surprised to find myself laughing. "Okay, okay," I chuckled, ducking under one of her arms and uncurling the other from my shoulders. "Calm down."

She stood up, pushing off of my side, which sent me flying into the back of the couch with an _oof_, and rearranged her clothing. "I need to go shopping," she announced, sauntering up to the mirror to fix her lipgloss. "I'll pick you up at seven, okay?"

I shook out my damp hair. "Yeah, heard you," I answered.

"Oh and babe." Vee paused on her exit through the doorway, and leaned her head with its perfectly sculpted hairstyle back into the room. "Wear something _nice_."

Oh, boy.

* * *

><p>"So you're ditching me for the witch?"<p>

I shook my head, and Patch lifted his hand to tuck a curl behind my ear. "Not ditching you," I said resolutely, my lips pulling to the sides a little. "I'll be back before you know it."

He pulled me in closer to his side on the bed, and even though the sun was still in the sky, spreading its friendly heat across the earth, the warmth radiating from Patch was so much more inviting. I snuggled into his shoulder and inhaled his scent deep in to my lungs. It clogged my train of thought.

"Some might call that ditching," he said, picking up my hand and twining his fingers through mine. "And some might call you a complainer," I countered, dropping our joined hands to his chest and sappily (and embarrassingly) watching the rise and fall of it.

His velvety laugh melted through me, all the way to the bone. "Fine, go party with Vee," he said heavily, a flame of betrayal splitting the light-hearted chuckle in his eyes. I chewed at my lip anxiously, catching it between my teeth before I felt a cool finger on my chin. "Joking," Patch whispered, his breath tickling my nose as he leaned in to kiss md softly. "I wanna go play at Bo's anyway."

"You're sure?"

He captured my words with his mouth again and twisted them into an appreciative moan. "I'm sure," he said in between kisses. "You'll be back here before I know it, remember?"

* * *

><p>The contents of my wardrobe and drawers were scattered across my bedroom floor. I stood, staring down and dissected them all. Fabric, fabric and yet more patterned fabric. I had a whole shop full of clothes, but nothing to wear. The irony of the statement almost drew a chortle from me.<p>

"Wear that one," Patch suggested. "Which one?" I asked confusedly, twirling around in a circle in an attempt to follow where he was jabbing his index finger.

"This one!" he said, and scooped it up into his hands. It was an old dress of my Mom's, and somehow had gotten mixed in with mine. Long, trailing past my toes and dissolving any shape I had, it was completely horrendous. "No way!" I yelped, giving him an incredulous _what the_.. look.

I spent another half an hour deciding. Patch wasn't much of an asset, he was far too busy worrying about the drunk, hormonal teenage boys who were going to be at the party, and so picked out things that even Stone Age derived people would puke at. But eventually and finally, I settled on a pretty skirt that came to the middle of my thighs, a string top and a cardigan. With a warning, possessive kiss to my lips, Patch left for Bo's, muttering very indiscreetly about his unhappiness with the situation and that I was required to call him if needed. I plonked my butt down in front of the mirror next, and even though I didn't wear makeup much anymore, I engaged in a discussion with the familiar face staring back at me about the pros of it.

The only ocean to cross now was Vee's inspection.

I pulled open the door and shyly shuffled back to give her room to step in. "Babe," she said stonily, with an emotionless, stern expression on her face. The glare of her headlights from behind morphed her into a dark silhouette. I took a breath of night air in through my teeth and waited for the scolding that was surely about to come. I wouldn't change just because she wanted me to, but wow, did Vee know how to knock any confidence I had in my clothes when she wanted to. "You look _ah-ma-zing_!" Shooting me an eager thumbs up, her face lit with a wide, proud smile.

Vee was bubbling over with excitement as we walked the footpath towards the host's house. Her lipstick gooey lips flew a million miles per minute as she gave me a quick rundown on a guy she'd had her eyes on since a party a few days ago. Caleb, or Kyle, or Connor, or something with a _ck _sound at the beginning. She was genuinely bristling with anxious thrill. "Looks like its gonna be a good one, babe!" she sang cheerily, hitching her bag further up her shoulder as she did so. I cast her a sideways glance, wanting to tap into her enthusiasm for her sake, but not quite getting it. "Could be," I said, managing to pull on a fake smile as I tripped after her up the driveway, which was already littered with clusters of people.

The music was ear splitting. Squinting, I almost thought I could see the walls of the house pulsing in time with it, both because of the music's volume and the amount of people stuffed inside. Alcohol flowed, and drunks.. well, fell over and stuff. I narrowly missed a flying elbow of a wobbly girl right inside the doorway, but Vee took care of it by grabbing her forearm. "Listen here, girl," she snapped. "You watch where you're going, okay?"

A red, plastic cup was shoved into my hands for the fifth time. Cliché and tacky. I had refused all of the others, as I did this one. Some of the brown, slushy liquid inside sloshed over the edges and wet my fingertips. "Drink up!" Vee said, and tipped her own cup back her throat. We were an hour in and she was already out of her mind drunk. I put my hand firmly on her shoulder to aid her when she stumbled. "Slow down," I cautioned, reaching for the cup as she did and pushed it out of her range.

"I need to go find Conrad!" Conrad! Conrad. It was Conrad.

"Um, Vee-"

"Be back in a while, babe!" Vee shouldered past two girls in our grade and disappeared into the crowd. I was left alone. A sigh broke my lips as I glanced down at the cup of alcohol. Could it really be so bad? Evidently not, because after standing there like a loser for a full five minutes, I gave in and downed it.

I was a lightweight.

"Nora!" I recognised the voice and face, but in my mind swirling with drunken trails of thought, I was unable to remember her name. "How are you?" the girl asked, leaning close to my ear so she could be heard. She grabbed my wrist and pulled me over to the wall harshly. "I haven't seen you all summer!"

Again with the all summer? According to Vee, we were off for the past two years, and now the few days gone are being described as _all summer_? _Come on, people, _I thought_, we've been off for like five days_.

"I'm good. You?" I answered, after a long moment of stupidly gawking at her face and admiring her sparkly nose ring. How could people even.. Didn't it hurt?

"Great.." And then I drowned her out. Her voice was high pitched but nasally, if that was a possible mix, and rubbed me in the wrong way. With flying lips coated in slimy beer and gloss, she launched directly into a boring story of her ex boyfriend.

Four drained red cups later, my patience was wearing thin.

"And, _oh my God_, Nora," she gushed, flapping her silvery streaked nails in my face. "You will never guess what-"

_Oh, boy, be quiet. Your voice is hurting my ears._

"'Scuse me, sorry," I slurred my interruption, idiotically dragging a hand up and slapping my left pointy finger over her icky lips. "I have to find Vee." The girl blinked, and took a hasty step back. "Um, sure," she mumbled, blush pooling in her cheeks. "See you around?" It sounded like a question. "Yep, nice talkin' t'ya!" I held up my cup, bowed to her slightly and turned away.

Vee was in Conrad's lap, an arm draped around his shoulders as they played a game of truths. Whoever refused to answer the question asked had to take a hefty swig of whatever was filtered into the bottle in Conrad's friend's hand.

"Nora!" she shouted once her gaze fell on me. Excitedly jumping off of Conrad's legs, she grabbed my arm and pulled me close to her face. "Is it okay if I go out with Conrad in a minute? We're gonna take my car," she wondered. Her breath smelled heavily of beer.

I nodded and gave her an encouraging slap on the back. "Yeah, I'll call Patch!"

"You sure?"

"Yeah, just come out with me a sec' so I can call him."

Vee grabbed Conrad, who snatched his friend, who snatched _his _buddy and the domino effect continued until there was seven of us by the house's entrance. I pulled out my phone just as two unfamiliar boys began tossing an antique vase between them, and Conrad pushed Vee against the wall to close his mouth on hers.

* * *

><p><strong>Patch's Point of View<strong>

The man was disgusting. He emitted an overwhelming putrid stench of sweat and tobacco as he manoeuvred his way around the green felt painted table. Cocking an eyebrow as he rolled his huge stomach into his pants so that he could better lean over the table, I thought he didn't seem like a pool player at all. The good ones were usually sly and precise, the bad or amateurs nervous and predictable. This guy just seemed plain dumb.

But, ah, who cares? I was winning myself a polished, shiny, barely year old motorbike because of his foolishness.

Exactly the millisecond that a sneer curved my lips, my phone buzzed to life in my pocket. I brought it to my ear without hesitating- stupid guy was going to spend another century figuring out his move anyway..

"Patch?" came a soft voice. I felt the smile come back. "Yes, Nora?" I answered.

A stream of strange giggles came from her. "Can you pick me up?" she asked. Stepping away from the pool table, I slid the pool cue back into its original place by the wall. "Hm?" I replied, unable to hear her over the background noise of both Bo's nightlife crowd, and where she was. She hiccupped. "Can you pick me up, please?"

"Where are you?"

"Um, a place," she slurred brokenly. Frowning, I covered my free ear with my hand and pressed the phone closer to my skull. "You're breaking up, Angel."

"Oh, I-"

A crash from her end caused the phone to vibrate. "Nora, where are you?" I repeated firmly, cutting off her tiny squeak of surprise. Voices floated down the phone and I heard her shush them quickly. "I think we're.. Wait." My protests of _don't you dare put the phone down _were stamped out by her voice.

"_Vee_! Where the hell are we?" she shouted.

I slumped onto a chair in the corner, and was bored to halfway to hell as Nora, Vee and some other people who I didn't care about all tried to figure out where they were.

_Humans_, I thought sourly. The only up side was because they took so long laughing and arguing between themselves, I was able to quickly finish my pool game and win myself the bike.

* * *

><p><strong>Nora's Point of View.<strong>

Everything was so much cooler when I was drunk. I'd experienced drink before, but wow, never like this!

Vee hung off Conrad's arm like a bee to a blossoming flower. "Babe," she garbled, and pulled away from her boy toy to nudge me in the arm. "Patch is here."

"Where?"

"There!" She threw her arm out and pointed to the end of the driveway. My eyes bulged, because _the _most good looking guy in history had just turned in on his glittery crimson motorcycle and parked. Well, whoa, he was handsome.. And mine!

"Bye Vee! Bye Conker!"

I stumbled forward a few steps, before feeling a cool hand grip my elbow gently. Patch's expression was amused as he smirked down at me. "Drink a little too much, Angel?" he questioned, beginning to steer me towards the beautiful bike.

"Nope!"

"Hmm." His smile was knowing. "Then you'll be okay to hold on tight?"

"Sure!"

"That's good then, because this thing goes fast." He pulled a plain black helmet over my head and tied it under my chin. Before throwing my leg over the back and hopping on behind, I gave him a chaste peck on the cheek.

So when he said it went fast, I thought maybe, you know, he meant a small bit quicker than his other. I was very sadly mistake. And forced to grip onto him like I was attempting to squeeze the soul from him. I was dizzy when we arrived back at the Farmhouse.

"I'm going to go wash up," I told him once inside the front door. The frosty wind had cleared my head slightly, and a bitter aftertaste of whatever it was I had been drinking stayed in my mouth. I dearly wanted to rid myself of it by using my friends; toothbrush and toothpaste. I fluffed my hair to tame the stray curls, and straightened my skirt.

Patch was more than happy to open his arms the second I strolled back into the living room, and without hesitation, I jumped into the space next to him. He smelt nice. Like mint. I ducked my head into his chest and he curled his arms around me in a cocoon. As I inhaled slowly and secretly, new feelings spread from his skin, through to mine, and sent tingles down my spine.

It was like a reflex reaction. Patch was a magnet, and I was single pin, and unable to resist him. Even when he wasn't trying. Not that he'd have to try hard..

I wanted to finish what he had started the night before. I was done with waiting.

With that thought driving me forward, I wriggled closer before throwing my lips onto his. I faintly feared the sting of rejection, but was pleasantly surprised when he met my kiss with his tongue. Another nice fortune was that this kiss was heated and when he opened his lips further, full of telecommunicated desires, instead of being slow and precise. Rough, almost. Momentarily the silly feeling of intoxication soared higher, and I felt like I could melt into a puddle at his toes. His hands went from twisting through my hair, to my chest, and then finally his warm palms began inching up my thigh and he grabbed my lower back.

I liked rough kissing, I decided.

Wrapping my arms around his neck, I jumped up to him as he stood, pulled me up and hitched my legs around his waist. Here, I was allowed better access to his mouth, and instantly took advantage of this as I crushed my lips back to his. Was Patch capable of being or doing anything but sexy? I quickly figured that, no, fortunately he wasn't, because no matter what he did, he found a way to draw me in easily.

Patch's mouth left mine and with a dreaded sense of foreboding, I assumed he was going to start teasing me half to death, until his icy breath touched my neck. As I tangled my fingers into his silky hair once more, he began tracing the invisible line along my throat and I swallowed back a moan of pleasure.

Maybe we shouldn't be doing this.. I mean, I was seriously drunk for the first time in my life, and things were going to get very intimate here.. These thoughts were completely and quickly erased as he moved to my collarbone, and each time I felt the graze of his playful teeth or tongue, my need spiked.

We continued like this, kissing, touching and teasing each other, until he finally decided to haul me out of my uncomfortable misery, and take me upstairs. "This is fun," I mumbled pathetically against his skin. His laughter seeped in through my pores and I tightened my grip around his waist. He tried to loosen this, most likely to toss me onto the bed, but my hold was sticking and instead he laid me down and climbed on top.

I gave myself a well deserved moment to dwell on the fact that Patch and I were _so close _and he still hadn't asked me to stop! Hallelujah, the Messiah has come-!

"We should stop now."

_Shut up, Patch, don't ruin this moment. _

"Why?" I grumbled. His fingers slid to the string of my top, and even though those smoky eyes of his showed conflict, he lifted it over my head and before I could comprehend, it was in a bundle on the floor with his shirt, which I had slyly removed at the first opportunity.

And then he stalled. Supporting himself with his arms on either side of me, his gaze bit into mine. "Are you sure about this, Angel?" he asked softly. God, I loved when he called me that..

"Yes." I tugged at his hair hungrily, demanding he bring those warm lips back down to my level. "But you're drunk," he said. Was there a hint of disappointment in his tone? Huh, I didn't like that one bit. I was drunk, yes, there's no point denying that, but I already knew I wanted this. I'd known since before that damned, stupid fire. And the realisation of _oh my God, Patch is kissing me like this _mixed with the cold air from the motorbike had sobered me up fairly fast. I was just a little giddy at this stage. That was it.

"Not really anymore," I promised.

"Are you going to regret this?" He bit his lip and looked so un-Patch-like for a moment that I froze.

He touched the tip of his finger to my temple. "No. Not ever," I answered honestly.

More clothes started falling off. He unclipped my bra without any assistance on my part, and with one hand, and I ran my hands along his muscled arms. With every touch, he fuelled my desire and broke his own resistance. I desperately wished that he could experience this as I was, but life didn't always deal us the best hands, and I settled for just being grateful that we were together.

We fought for dominance, like a comical wrestling match, but he won, as I knew he would, and we carried on teasing and tickling each other. It was fun waiting for the other to click, and yet again, I knew he'd succeed. But it wasn't until he began pushing my skirt and underwear down agonisingly slow that I actually caved. "Okay!" I gasped, unintentionally digging my nails into his shoulders. "I give up! You win!"

It was all I had to say before he returned to hovering over me, and explored every inch of my body with his fiery ice touch. All the while, his bedroom black eyes lingered on mine.

I didn't know what to expect now. I mean, what happens after..? Maybe he'd throw me out and go to sleep? Wait, no, it was my house -my bed- and he'd never do that. Maybe he'd go and say something completely boyish like "im hungry, bye"?

Ah, I didn't know, and the uncertainty of it made me nervous!

Alternatively, he stayed right where he was, the red bed clothes spread across his lower body and ran his fingers through my knotty hair. This eased my anxiousness, and bathing in the feeling of total relaxation, I cuddled closer to rest my head on his warm shoulder. "Are you okay?" he asked quietly, as if being too loud would shatter the peace and harmony in the room.

I nodded and kissed his collar bone for reassurance. I really was. Sure, I was the teensiest bit sore, but it was entirely worth it. And I didn't regret it at all. Maybe someone else would frown upon us because I was drunk when I'd first been with Patch, but I honestly didn't care. One, no one else would find out, and two, in my opinion, being slightly tipsy made things easier because it took the edge of my nerves.

I really, really enjoyed this feeling of being loved and wanted.

"Patch?" I whispered, my voice also tentative. As sappy as it sounds, I wished the moment would last forever. His hands stilled in my hair, and he pressed his lips to my forehead in a soft kiss. "Yeah?"

"Thanks."

He grinned crookedly, and reached across his chest to tap my nose. "Anytime, Angel," he said, and winked a black eye at me. They held a thousand thoughts.

I so had to tell Vee about this.

* * *

><p>Patch was making us something to eat in the kitchen when I slipped outside the backdoor and into the inky garden, phone in hand.<p>

"What's up, babe?" Vee answered on the second ring in an unusually cheery voice.

"Free tomorrow?"

"For what?"

Eyeing Patch's shirtless outline through the curtains on the kitchen window, I felt my stomach twist into knots-which were becoming increasingly familiar. "I really need to talk to you," I said with a quick laugh, a smile tilting my lips.

"Wha-" She fell silent, and then raked in a huge breath of air. "_Oh my God!_"

"I know!"

"Ah!"

"Shhh!"

"Nora-!"

"Where are you?" I interrupted, muffling my laughter with my hand. Patch would have some seriously sadistic fun mocking me if he found out I ran off to call Vee. "Just home," she responded happily. "Conrad took me home."

"Oh-"

"Pick you up tomorrow at noon?"

"Sure thing. Bye Vee."

"Bye babe! Be safe!" We hung up, I slid the phone back into my pocket and shuffled back inside the warm walls of my home.

A bubble of happiness was swelling in my chest. I'd just had one of the best road trips of my life, -maybe I could convince him to take me on another before the summer's out?-, my best friend was brilliantly was still the best ever, and Patch and I.. well, we had the whole night..

* * *

><p><strong>So what'd you think? Haha.. I'm not sure of it.. :S<strong>

**Anyways, thank you very much for reading, and if you could pretty please leave a review or something I'd be very happy, and inspired to write more. :D xxx**

**I don't think this story has much left.. but who knows? XD**

**Thanks again guys, very much, and again, MERRY CHRISTMAS AND A HAPPY NEW YEAR! xxxxx**


	8. Chapter 8

**Hey! Thank you all for last chapter's response, thanks for everything :) xx **

**I hope you all had a GREAT CHRISTMAS DAY! And are still enjoying the break, and gonna have a HAPPY NEW YEAR!**

**Here's one of _When it comes to kissing, practice makes perfect_'s final chapters. I'm not sure if there'll be a sequel.. I mean, I've thrown together a few ideas, but altogether, I'm not entirely sure. What're you guys' thoughts? Sequel, no sequel? :) **

**Please drop a review if you could, if its no trouble! Thank you for readin! And now.. it's five in the morning and I must sleep. **

**LOTS OF LOVE! xx**

* * *

><p>My Mom was on her way home.<p>

I stood in the living room, one hand cocked on my hip as I imperiously eyed the damage. Throws, pillows, and a jumper littered the carpeted floor. Two blue bowls which were originally blooming with rich, vanilla ice cream lay on their sides, haphazardly tossed aside and leaking streaked spoons. A ringlet fell across my cheek, and with a languid flick, I brushed it aside. The television was still on, the picture on the screen already dwindled down into a blinding black and grey speckled mess. The DVD, running from an old player I'd found in the attic and which was now plonked in a tangle of wires in front of the tv, was long over, but electricity continued flowing into the system. A cup lined with the dried stained ring of frothy hot chocolate and kissed with the imprint of lipgloss sat on the coffee table, leaving its mark in the form of a clear circle of sticky residue on the cloudy glass.

"Definitely dirty," I mumbled quietly to myself. I nudged an upside down magazine with the toe of my shoe and grimaced. So Patch and I had decided to be normal teenagers for once and not meticulously clean up after ourselves. As a result, the living room was a sight not meant for the faint hearted. "Stupid mom and her stupid _work_." Distinct air quotes were curled around the word _work_, and this was made clear enough through my voice- actions were unnecessary. Like I'd said before, my Mother was away for much longer than needed, and for much more things than just work. If anything, I believed she deserved to come home to a pile of ashes as a home. But I wasn't that mean, so instead I settled for exiting the living room and leaving it untouched. She'd have fun cleaning.

"Maybe not dirty _enough_."

"What's not dirty enough?"

The unannounced voice startled and tripped me up. "Jeez, Patch!" I grumbled, awkwardly grabbing at the edge of the countertop to hold myself straight. Leaning against the doorframe in a topless state, he raised an eyebrow at my expression when I turned to scowl disapprovingly at him. "What's not dirty enough?" he pressed again.

"The living room-"

"'Cause whatever it is, I'm pretty sure we can _make _it," a slow smirk, the mirror image of what I imagined a psychopath's smile to be, began filling his cheeks, "dirty enough."

I was too stupidly distracted by his temporary upper body nakedness to comprehend what he was saying. "Excuse me?" I blinked once, twice, three times to dissipate the fog. "I said," he began again, but the rest was a wash of blurred words as I locked eyes on his lips. They were such a rare colour, and I could perfectly remember the feel of them against mine..

Suddenly, they stopped moving, and turned down into a frown. "Angel," Patch murmured slowly. "What are you doing?"

Like a bucket of ice water had been poured over my head, I was snapped back to reality. "Oh, um." Dropping my fingertip from where I had been touching my own lips, as if the feel would help me relive memories of the previous night, crimson blood flushed through my veins. "I was, um." I ran a hand through my hair nervously and averted my gaze from his all-too-knowing eyes.

"I know what you were doing," said Patch proudly, a smug look gracing his tanned face.

"No, you don't," I stuttered, swiftly moving away from him and putting the countertop between our bodies. If he kept creeping closer whilst his (annoyingly and usually always there) clothing were amiss, I would cave. And I couldn't afford that, Vee was picking me up in less than an hour. "Are you sure about that?" He ate up the distance like a hungry owl, and was almost instantaneously in my face. His warm breath tickled the tip of my nose.

"Pretty sure." I stumbled backwards, muttering something about being _very behind on schedule already_, and ducked into the living room. I thought that, at least here, he'd have a hard time clambering through all the untidiness to get to me.

I was sadly (or happily; whichever way you want to look at it) mistaken, and he was a mere hairbreadth behind my skittering heels. We played cat and mouse for a while, and I squealed and complained and pretended to not love every single second of it.

It was when he grabbed me firmly around the waist, beside the couch, that I gave up. Breathing heavily while he chuckled breezily at my flushed face, I reached up to stroke back a lock of hair that had fallen into his eyes. And then my foot caught in one of the throws entangled with another on the floor, and I tipped sideways, pulling Patch with me as I latched onto his forearm.

The shock of falling altogether rendered us silent for a moment, but as the pair of us locked stares, the tickling and fighting ceased. Patch's gaze bounced from my eyes, to my lips, and then pierced through my eyes again as he brushed aside my hair this time. "Teasing isn't nice," I uttered, leaning down towards him to coax free a kiss.

He met me halfway, raising his head fractionally off of the cold floor, but paused just before touching my lips with his own. "Too late," he whispered, and then rolled out from under me.

"Again with the teasing!"

Patch cast me a sidelong glance, a confident smirk flowering over his mouth. Those lips of his, why did I ever have to kiss them? I'd never have free will now, he'd always be able to coerce me into things just by using those velvety allies. "Hush up," he chuckled, scooting into a sitting position to use the back of the couch as a support. I mimicked this. "I have something to show you," he continued.

"Oh yeah?" I grabbed his hand in mine and laced my fingers through his. His hand was stiff, almost unyielding, and when I glanced up to question this, it was surprising to see him equipped with a serious expression- almost made me feel a little uneasy. "I do," he voiced quietly, and I tried to be ever so patient as he began rummaging in his dark jean's pocket.

My abruptly singing phone beckoned to both of our attention. Stupid, stupid phone. Why did it have to go off right this second? Patch was so close to revealing something, and ugh-!

"What?" I snapped.

"Sup, Nora? Just makin' sure you're ready, 'cause I'm a-coming!"

"Vee."

"Yup?" She chirped like a bird on the phone. "What's the matter, babe?"

"No-"

"You _busy_?" Her voice was saturated in innuendoes. My cheeks flamed with embarrassed colour. Patch tilted his head to the side and ogled me funnily, as he threw me questions about my mortification through his eyes. I knew what he'd ask if I wasn't otherwise occupied; _what is she talking about? _Oh, how well it would go down if I told Patch that I'd sneaked away to call Vee earlier on in the previous night..

Covering the speaker end with my palm, I pulled the phone from my ear. "I have a lot of homework that needs to be done." My lie was most definitely foolproof, and it showed all over his gullible expression. Not. His lips curved upwards in an appeasing manner and his eyes twinkled secretively.

Oh, boy. Could you say humiliation?

"_No_," I snarled quietly in reply. "I'll be ready when you come."

"In ten minutes?"

"Yeah, bye."

I hung up and shoved the pocket back into my pocket. "So what was it you wanted to show me?" I kept my voice innocently sweet as I levelled my gaze with Patch's. His originally open, caring eyes were hard now, as if they had cemented over, but for some reason (maybe intuition?) I knew this frustration wasn't aimed at me or my stupid heart spilling moments with my best friend. "What's the matter?" I inquired, canting my head slightly to the side like it would help me to tap into or decipher the million thoughts swirling in his head.

"Nothing," he said, his tone blasé. Too blasé. "It's nothing." He stood up. "I.. have to go, Angel." Here, he reached down and pulled me to my feet gently. "I'll talk to you later, have fun with Vee." The kiss to my forehead was slow, and lingered long after he turned on his heels and vanished through the doorway.

* * *

><p>Vee spent an hour interrogating me in a small, stuffy café situated at the edge of town. And then it was my turn to spin the tables on her. According to the Bible of Vee, Conrad was <em>such a hottie<em>, and _oh, my God he's so hot _and _he's such a great kisser_ and oh he's just _so hot_. Why didn't she eat him if he was that delectable? I mean, what were the legal terms around that? Probably better she didn't though, unsafe anyway, if he was _that _hot he might've burned her.

* * *

><p>I was greeted by my flushed-faced mother who flung open the front door the second my fingertips touched the brass handle. Her hair was pulled back into a messy bun, and she wore a tattered, old apron. A bubble of guilt overturned in my chest at how stressed she appeared, balancing a stack of work sheets in her left hand while cradling the house phone to her ear with the other. "Excuse me for a moment, please," she said sternly to the caller.<p>

I had to remind myself that she had abandoned me so many times. I had to keep in mind that she ditched me for weeks on end. This guilt was tainted. I didn't deserve it.

"Where've you been, Nora?" mom inquired hardly. Her voice still held a tinkling of pleasantries, but I knew that was only for the soul on the other end of our telephone line. I stepped inside and walked around her. "Out with Vee," I answered simply, dodging the penetrating stare she was rewarding me with.

"Nora," she said, her voice grazing on a hiss. "We need to talk."

I sent a pointed, absolute glare at the phone. "Fine, later," she reluctantly agreed with narrowed eyes, and then hastily added, "Patch left a note for you in the kitchen," with a sloppy indication to the back of the house. It was a slice of paper from an old refill pad of mine, shoved somewhere deep in the top drawer of my desk. The corner of the note was ripped, and I crinkled my nose at this- was he really in such a rush that he pulled the page out so fast it tore? Didn't seem like Patch's perfectionist attitude. The printed blue lines were faded and dull, but he still lay his curvy, cursive letters upon them.

_Sorry for leaving. I have to go- business to attend to. I don't know when I'll be back, I hope to let you know. Be careful, Angel. And don't follow me._

_-Patch._

To Hell with that! Trepidation and uneasiness sank in my stomach, and I stifled a sharp sigh of frustration. Patch never just fell from the face of the earth. He never became suddenly distant and cold like he did earlier in the day, I should have realised that long before. And he would never scribble a note on a partially ripped page-he was far too proud to do that. Joined together like a fitted jigsaw puzzle, it could only mean one thing. He was in trouble.

An instinct to protect him, so hot it startled me, flared in my throat.

"Mom." I called out to her a little more loudly than necessary as I yanked open the hall cupboard, and began feeling around insanely fast for my just recently discarded jacket.

"What?" came her snapped, short reply. Obviously, she was still on the phone. "I need to go back out," I replied, finally finding purchase and shrugging into a black coat. "I'm taking the car and I'll be back soon."

Mom's footsteps sounded against the wooden floor as they almost sparked in her urgent need to get to my side. "What?" she barked, growing closer. "You are not. I told you we need to talk-" Her voice was cut off as I slammed the front door and pummelled myself into the driver's seat.

Patch was either at one of two places, I decided, as I pushed the keys into the ignition and twisted them quickly. Bo's, or his home at Delphic. As my mother kicked open the front door and started pounding her way out to me with an unhindered, furious simper, I was forced into making a decision fast. "Delphic is closer." I was there within minutes, throwing open the car door and racing towards the entrance. Of course, in the dark, I destroyed seconds of precious time (time I so vulnerably thought he might be being harmed) getting lost and confused.

But, thankfully, familiar arms wrapped around my torso and pulled me into the warm confines of Patch's home, after hearing a belated cuss or twenty.

"Angel, did you come alone?" Patch sadly left his hold fall from me and pushed me behind his back, acting as a solid shield as he peeked out the doorway and stared into the darkness momentarily. Once satisfied that I wasn't being followed, he nudged the door with the sole of his foot and it slid closed softly.

"Yes."

He span around to face me, the movement almost too sudden for my wide eyes, which were still readjusting to the light. "Did you get my note?" he questioned. I nodded, opening my mouth to answer verbally but paused when he crossed his arms over his chest. Until now, I hadn't realised the vibes he was radiating were.. angry.

"Then why did you come?"

My eyebrows shot up. "I thought you were in danger," I answered truthfully, a defensive edge grating my words and his nerves. Patch ran a hand through his hair and unfroze. Scoffing, he walked past me and into the kitchen. "I told you not to come," he muttered, fishing a bar stool and sitting on it. In front of him, splayed across the granite worktop, were stashes of letters and envelopes. A frown took the place of his usual smirk as his eyes fell on these, and he rested his chin in his hand while staring solely at them.

"No." I slipped to his side and peered at the wrinkled pages. "You told me not to follow you."

His glance was cold, his gesture icy as he snatched up the letters and pulled them away from my line of sight. "You knew what I meant though," he accused in a voice like gravel cracking on gravel.

I figured it was best to bite my tongue for the moment, including the smartass retort coming to my lips, and give him a moment to explain. "What's wrong with you?" I asked, my eyes trained on his every precise action.

"Nothing."

"Don't give me that, you and I both know there's something wrong."

Patch rolled his eyes melodramatically. "There's nothing wrong."

"Yes, there is." I persisted, and took a seat across from him. It could take a while to chip away at his resistance, but eventually he'd have to open up.. "Do you really want to hear it?" he mused, his voice suddenly much quieter. I looked him straight in the eye, slightly relieved, heftily worried that it was that easy to break him down. He sighed, tilting away from me to lean against the back of his chair. "I'm leaving."

Again with this? Ugh. "Patch," I said, aiming to come across reasonable as I pressed my palms into the cold worktop and waited until the condensation handprint was gone before continuing. "We've been through this-"

"No, Angel, you're not getting it." He shook his head. A twisted lock of hair stuck to his super long eyelashes. "I'm not _choosing_ to leave," he said, his heavy eyes locking with mine. "I _have_ to."

A sudden kind of panic gripped my entire system. "What? What do you mean _have _to?"

Patch smiled, the saddest manipulation of one as the edges of his lips quirked bitterly. "The Archangels," he answered. "I've made too many mistakes, and last night, somehow they found out, and I've pushed them too far.."

I was out of my seat before I knew it, and scurrying to his side. He turned on the chair to face me and I stepped between his legs, grabbing his face in my hands as he simultaneously encircled his arms around my waist.

I was forever scared of the Archangels. Patch certainly _had_ broken many of their most strict rules multiple times over, and while at the back of my mind I always knew this would come back to nip him, I hoped my premeditations were incorrect. But where had this come from? Suddenly, out of nowhere, they wanted him? Whether as recruitment or for his head on a stick, I didn't care- the bottom line was that they were taking him away from me.

A solid glint in his eyes told me to not question our enemies' unforeseen intervention into our lives- any of my pointless questioning would just further hurt him, though he'd never admit it. And also, with a thick feeling of dread coursing through my veins, invisible forces told me it was true. "You can't go," I decided for him, using the pad of my thumb to smoothen the lines of worry on his forehead. "You have to fight."

"I am going to fight, I just don't think I'll win.. That's why I didn't want you here, Angel. You need to move on." Whoa. The panic increased tenfold, an iron like lock encasing my heart. "What do you mean move on?" I demanded, a tense breath of laughter leaving my lips. We both knew it was humourless. "We're going to get through this."

His fingers slid under the hem of my dark jacket, and ensued drawing soothing circles onto my lower back. "No," he whispered. "I won't be back this time."

"They're not even here yet! We can run." I grappled at his cheeks, fear morphing to desperation as I forcefully tipped his head back to stare into his eyes. "We can run away," I suggested. "Right now." His hold on me tightened, as if he thought I might slip away. "They _are _here," he muttered, his face wiped of expression for a moment as he listened intently for something, before blatant determination took hold. "They're here now-they're back." Patch stood, pushing me back a step and gripping his fingers tightly around my forearm. "You need to leave, Angel. Now."

"No!"

"Scott!" Scott?

"You remember Scott, right, Angel?" Patch asked, his voice (for the second time that day) far too calm than it should've been in this situation. His demeanour, though, showed flaws, as he starkly exposed his weakness to the higher Archangels- me.

"Scott Parnell?" I gasped, struggling in a futile attempt to shrug him off. "Patch, let me go! We can work this out-"

"Yeah, him. He owes me, so he's doing me a favour."

"Excuse me?" I yelped. A door on the other side of the room tiptoed back, and in strolled Scott Parnell, exactly as I had remembered him. Cocky and way too confident in his works. "What's up, Grey?" he chirruped, pushing sunglasses from his eyes back into his hairline with the tip of his finger as he grinned lavishly at me. My eyes popped in disbelief.

"I knew you'd come even if I asked you not to, so I called Scott for backup," Patch explained. At my utterly baffled gawk, he shrugged a shoulder. "He owes me one."

Resounding gunshots and an ear splitting _kaboom _from outside, above us, ricocheted through the room. We all froze, Scott almost literally mid step as he lazily sauntered towards us. To me, it was like a signal to notify everyone that the world was ending. A ripple of fear hammered my chest. The two men exchanged telepathic glances above my head, as I curled instinctively into Patch's chest for protection.

As if it were planned, Scott immediately stood guard by the guard, sliding a gun from his own pocket as he leaned around the doorframe with squinted vision. "Twenty seconds, Grey," he ordered, shooting me a tough look before returning his attention to watching the very, very dim corridor.

Patch's finger gripped my upper arms. "I'm serious," he stated, and I snapped my head away from my old friend and up to look at him so fast that I could swear I'd have whiplash. "You can't follow me."

"But-"

He cupped my face in his palms. "This is Hell that we're talking about, Angel." His voice was so soft, so reassuring, like he was telling me something sweet, loving and concocted just for my ears. "You can't follow me," he repeated. His thumbs brushed along my cheekbones, and I was forced to glance away from his sad, smoky eyes.

Along with feeling dizzyingly nauseous and frightened silly, a wave of loneliness washed over me like a tidal wave. I was going to be on my own, with no idea if the love of my life was even alive. "Please," I tried one more time, reaching up to my face and cuddling my fingers around his hands there, "If we run now.."

A louder boom, one of which I'm sure streaked a gash through my eardrum, blew up the room. Not in the literal sense, but to human ears, that's what it felt like.

"You!" Scott snapped, jumping around to scream at us and jab a finger at Patch. "Leave her go- we need to get out of here _now_!"

Following a nod at this, Patch grabbed me roughly and drew me into him. "I'll fight, Angel, I promise," he swore, touching my face so gently with his fingers. "But I can't guarantee anything. You can, though. So will you?"

"What is it?" He had my heart in his hands now. With the impending doom of Archangel soldiers, it would surely shatter into a million pieces and dissolve any soul I had left. "Move on from me if I don't come back," he breathed, and pressed his lips chastely to mine. It was over before I could blink, and Scott was throwing an arm around my waist to tug me from the room.

An unheard cry fell from my lips. This was happening all way too fast, a blur of dark colour fogging my eyes as I stumbled behind Scott to the exit. "It's gonna' be alright, Nora," he shushed me, stretching back to catch my hand and pull me alongside him. I knew it was just so that I wouldn't become lost, but all the same, I much appreciated the touch and squeezed his hand weakly.

"Will he be okay, Scott?"

* * *

><p><strong>DUM DUM DUUUUUUUUUUUM!<strong>

**Don't freak. XD Wanna know what happens..? Is Patch going to be sent to Hell? Better yet, is he even going to survive? And what'll become of Nora? And Scott, cannot forget Scott, what'd you think of his sudden reappearance? I just love his character a lot, I had to include him somewhere.**

**ANYWAYS, please review if you can, thank you very much :) xx**


	9. Chapter 9

**I first of all want to say a huge, huge, HUGE thank you to every single person who read this story. Everyone who left a review, favourite'd me as an author, or this story (or my others), or put it on alert; THANK YOU. I can't explain enough how appreciative I am of EVERYTHING you all did! The reviews are so motivating, and inspiring, and yep, I'm most definitely in love with you guys. :) THANK YOU SO SO SO SO SO SO MUCH FOR SUPPORTING ME! I'll never be able to tell ye enough how grateful I am :) xxxx**

**And now ye're probably all like, _she's crazy, I mean, the story was only 9 chapters long? _Well, my lovely, lovely, reader, this is a particular milestone for me, because it's one of the few stories (the very first I've ever shown people) that I've completed. Like completely. Even if there is a sequel, I can still say that _oh yeah, I finished When it comes to kissing, practice makes perfect!_ AND IT'S ALL THANKS TO YOUR ENCOURAGEMENT! Thank you, guys, seriously thank you. **

**I really, really, really, really hope you enjoyed this story. Even if it's only a fraction of the enjoyment I got outta writing it. XD **

**And yep, there will most likely be a sequel. I'm not sure when it'll be up (could be tomorrow, could be in two months), 'cause I'm going to be very busy with exams up until.. July-ish. So, yeah.. But I'm hoping (emphasis here) to have it up sometime the first week of January :D **

**Have a great NEW YEAR (HAPPY NEW YEARS! xx) and thank you very much for giving me your support with this story :) xx**

**And now that I've stopped babbling, here is the final chapter of _When it comes to kissing, practice makes perfect_. Guilty, I like writing cliffhangers..**

* * *

><p>Life sucks.<p>

Once Scott's trainer clad feet touched the stony ground above, after heaving me through the tunnels whilst tucked under his wing, a cold embrace wrapped its frosty arms around us. A shiver fell from his body and pierced through mine. The sky was dimming, a serene blue melting and oozing into a splatter of soft pinks and oranges, which were mildly darkened by a tinge of black cloud speckles.

I appreciated the glum-like sky, though, because I felt it was completely in tune with my emotions.

"Over here," Scott muttered, releasing his arm from its tight grip around my shoulders only to grasp my wrist. The toes of my shoes scuffed against the gravel as he dragged me to the left, easily overpowering my measly attempts to swing around and jump back into the passageways. But he only had two hands, and since one was gripping me and the other a gun, he had no control over my swivelling head, and taking advantage, I twisted it around and screamed at the blackened figures I could see retreating into the darkness. Their faces were shrouded by long shadows, but I could make out at least nine of them, along with four huge vehicles.

Scott yanked open a dark car door and literally pushed me inside. "Gotta help me out here, Grey," he grumbled, effectively blocking my view of the horrific scene as he leaned across my chest with the seatbelt in his hand. "Can you tie yourself in?"

Unwillingly, I peeled my eyes from behind him and snapped to meet his stare coldly. "Yes," I growled, snatching the metal buckle from his warm fingers. "I'm perfectly capable of putting on a seatbelt."

"Well, that's good." He slammed the door shut with his foot, making me jump at the eruption of such nearby noise, and jogged around the glinting bonnet to the driver's side. "Hold on tight," he grunted beneath his breath, slipping the key into the ignition and simultaneously stomping on the accelerator.

The car lurched forward in a vicious roar of outrage. Seemingly unaffected at the bounce of movement, Scott swirled the wheel in his hand, twisting it so fast that when it locked to the left, a loud _click _echoed through the vehicle. The thick wheels kicked up dirt, rubble and leftover rubbish in Scott's haste to leave Delphic, most definitely and undeniably creating a dented pathway in the rugged, dry earth in their tracks. In less than a minute, he had manoeuvred the speeding beast around four other idly parked vehicles (thankfully, the park was closed today) and was shooting through the gate and onto the road.

An edgy silence took hold of the car. One which grated at both of our nerves, patiently waiting and prodding for the right moment to set either person off. For now, an unsettling sort of physical calm had entered my veins- my heart no longer throbbed, my blood no longer raced, my breathing didn't stutter. But I sat, straight and stiffly, and gnawed on my lip anxiously. Tears pricked at the back of my eyes, but I bravely fought them back. I was vowing to never leave the Archangels reduce me to weeping ever again.

I was confused, hurt, and concentrated ripples of loneliness and abandonment danced on my skin, raising the hairs on the back of my neck and arms. I was unsure of what to do- how to go about getting Patch back. He had told me to move on, but he should've known that that thought had died before it had a chance to breathe past his lips. I would never _move on_ from Patch. Ever.

I'd get him back. After determinately crossing my fingers in my lap, I sent a prayer to the heavens, and swore to not give up until I had him safe in my arms once more.

Of their own accord, my lungs dragged in a breath of leathery scented air. "We need to go back." The voice from my throat was not my own, it sounded tired and dead. "We need to go back and get him," I continued, sneaking a peek to the side to glance at Scott. "I can't just leave him." His eyes maintained their focus on one point on the road, and despite my continuation, he drove directly to the Farmhouse, and once their tugged the keys from the ignition.

It was only then that my slightly otherwise occupied mind realised that the car was Patch's. His beloved black Jeep.

"The _Jeep_?" I cried, quickly unfastening the seatbelt so that I could fully face him with a disbelieving expression. "What, are you crazy?" Scott's eyebrows shot up to his hairline. "Some might say I'm crazy," he replied slowly after a moment. "But whatever, what's the big deal?"

"Patch is going to be _mad _when he comes back!"

Scott rolled his eyes and snapped off his own buckle with a quick flick of his wrist. "No, he won't," he responded, giving me a hard look. "Trust me." Scoffing, I crossed my arms over my chest and cocked an eyebrow. "You don't know him," I quipped in a presuming tone, and met his gaze equally. "He'll be furious."

"Yeah, well-"

A dismissive wave of the hand was given. "Will you take me back there?" I cut him off.

This surprised him. "What?" he answered back snappily. I took in a deep, calming breath through my teeth. "I need to go back there." It felt like the hundredth time saying it. "I need to help him."

"Grey," Scott spoke slowly, as if he was trying to placate a young child. "If I had any idea of doing that, why would I have driven you home?" He turned his head to stare condescendingly into my eyes.

A flare of indignation lit in the pit of my stomach. "I would have stayed if you hadn't dragged me! I was in shock!"

"In shock?" A smirk tilted the corners of his mouth.

A bitter glare curdled my already annoyed expression. "Yes, in shock," I quipped sourly. "So are you going to bring me back, or not?"

"I think," he leaned more comfortably into his chair, shutting his eyes and crossing his hands behind his head, "not."

I narrowed my eyes reproachfully. "Seriously?" I ground out through closed teeth. "Seriously," he hummed, cracking open one eyelid to glance at me with a sneer. "Fine, whatever," I groaned, pushing down the door handle and clambering out of the vehicle. Too many pressing scents, too many memories of which I might not get more. "I'll go myself."

My keys were already in hand, driver's side door swung open when he took brute hold of my elbow. "You're not going back there, Nora," he snapped, whipping the jingling set from me. "You're not allowed."

"Not _allowed_?" I snorted. "I think you'll find I can go wherever I want. They're probably all gone anyway, they wouldn't wait around, I just want to see if there is anything there that we could use as a lead." Holding my hand out expectantly, "Now you can give back my keys and I can drive back to Delphic, or I'll walk alone," I cocked an eyebrow at him impatiently.

Scott fumbled with his words, biting down on his lip with a torn expression. "If I drive you," he began uncertainly, glancing at me through his light coloured eyelashes. "Will you at least tell him that I tried to keep you away?"

"It's a deal."

"Get into the Jeep," Scott ordered dimly, and without the need of further instruction, I rejoined him in the familiar car and off we sped.

The place was deserted. Apart from one vehicle that was neither a Jeep nor a car. I observed Scott's mysterious once over's of it, but other than that, it was unspoken of between us.

"So what're we looking for?" he asked, kicking an old fizzy drink cup which was blowing along the parking zones languidly.

"Evidence."

"Evidence of what?"

"Evidence of the Archangels.." My voice slowly came to a stop at the approach of two thick men. One was dressed smartly in a perfectly tailored suit, the other sporting a red jumper.

"One," the man in the suit whispered. I send them a bewildered look, lips parting to question his sudden appearance, but the other male beat me to the punch. "Two," he continued. Scott's eyes widened like he had seen a person with four heads. "Nora.." he said in a tight voice. "We need to-"

"Three!"

And we were jumped. _Looks like the solitary vehicle was of importance after all_, I considered as they tossed us into the back.

* * *

><p>"What have you gotten me into, Nora?" Scott's whispers were saturated with aggravation, causing a guilty knife to twiddle in my stomach. So much so, I almost cringed away when he shuffled to my side in the dark back of the bumbling truck, of which we'd been thrown into by the burly Archangel in red.<p>

"I'm sorry," I breathed back truthfully. "I didn't mean to get you involved."

I felt more than heard him heave a sigh. "I know," he mumbled in response, and inched an arm around my shoulders to pull me into his side. As a source of comfort for me or him, I didn't know. "I'm sorry, too."

"For what?"

"For not keeping you away from here."

I hoped my scowl of disapproval was visible through the inky little cave. Shrugging out of his hold, I stifled a snarl of defence. "I would have came anyway," I responded sharply. "You wouldn't have had a say. I'm a big girl, you know, Scott."

Scott chuckled at this, and the sound softly crept to my ears and ensued seeping into my skin. Despite the fact that I was annoyed at him (oh, and shoved in the back of a dusty truck while my boyfriend was being held captive and/or being tortured), I was forced to bite back a short smile at the familiar breath of noise. "Just c'mere, Grey," he encouraged after a moment. Sensing his movements, I automatically stiffened at the uncertainty, but once I felt his fingers graze the back of my hand, relaxed again. "I'll feel better when you're closer." He bent his fingers and gripped my wrist, crawling further up my forearm to my elbow where he gave a sharp tug. "They might open that door any second and snatch you away, and well, then I'd have to give the Jeep back."

I let him draw me into his side again, and once there, curled my cold legs into my chest. "What?" I questioned, resting my head against his shoulder while he allowed his arm to wrap around my shoulders.

"I owed your lover boy something," he explained, a grin evident in his voice. "But I promised to protect you on one condition."

"That's what you meant by he wouldn't be mad about the car?" I murmured, scrunching my nose in thought. And then, "You needed to be _bribed_?" My tone was incredulous, dripping clearly with it.

Scott's leanly muscled body trembled with laughter. "I guess so," he snickered. "Lover boy handed over the keys to my new baby, and I swore to keep you safe." Still chortling to himself, he pressed his lips to the hair at my temple.

Well, what the hell was that for? I was too stunned silent to answer, but after a while, nailed it down to a friendly act of compassion. (That's all it could be, right?) And then once that consideration had come to a close, sunk back into my worry and grief about Patch.

The ride was bumpy. The driver appeared to tease satisfaction from turning sharp corners and speeding over huge rocks. I, on the other hand, did not, and spent the journey being tossed around like captured crab in a child's beach bucket.

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><p>After a half an hour or so, the door of the truck was hauled open and artificial light from an above streetlight streamed in, sizzling my eyes which had grown accustomed to the darkness. Although the desire to huddle into Scott's jumper to hide from the very scary, wide Archangels standing in the frame was almost unendurably strong, I mustered up my best tough look and refused to shrivel like the scrawny human I was beneath their unwavering stares. "Are you going to leave us out now?" I snapped, eyeing them with a heftily disgruntled expression.<p>

The Angel in red cocked an eyebrow at me, his eyes glinting in unhindered interest behind his thick eyebrows. I supposed he wasn't used to being disrespected by humans. Scott pinched my hand, clicking my attention to him to catch my eye briefly and communicate through this two simple words: _shut up_. Or maybe he would've added an annoying _Grey _to the end of that, who knows?

"Get out," the Angel with the suit instructed in a demanding tone. At our blank expressions, he pointed a finger at my chest and then to the ground by his feet. "See? Not so hard." Nothing more was uttered as Scott slid out first, glaring fiery daggers at the Angels, grabbed me around the waist and pulled me down too. His arm was like a protective sheath curved around my torso, and when we passed a cluster of more, unfamiliar Archangels, tightened considerably.

The two burly messengers of Heaven led us into a large building, which after simultaneously exchanged glances, Scott and I decided was a warehouse. We were shoved to the corner roughly, where I almost tumbled over a stray crate full of God only knows what.

Scott plonked down on top of this and kicked out his legs as if it was his couch at home. "Looks like the only spot left is.." he glanced around the immediate area before finishing, "My knee." His grin was all fox.

"No way," came my knee-jerk response, but Scott laughed, and kindly stood up to leave me the crate chair, instead opting for the hay splattered floor by my feet. Now sitting, gingerly as it was dirty and I was scared of rats, I took a moment to inspect the warehouse. It was bare, bar a handful of other crates- both bigger and smaller, and cutting the room in half was a wall, about three metres tall, of what looked to be chicken wire.

I hugged my arms around myself, an uneasy sinking feeling of premeditated doom adding weights to my heart. Already I was beginning to pine for Patch- for his minty aroma and warm touch. If this happened before, I'd brush it aside to the wardrobes of my mind, where it'd come out later and I'd hug him tighter to absorb my fill and dispel the discomfort. But now, there was the possibility that I would never hold him again. Never _see _him again. The feelings and aches would stay forever.

The thought coaxed a tiny breath of a sob from my lips.

Sure, it was a step in the right direction that less than an hour of fleeing the scene, we had returned and then sussed out (or were kidnapped to) where we assumed Patch was being held. It was possible we'd witness something useful to incorporate in our later plans to get him back. But at that moment, I wasn't really thinking of the future and _this is our plan_, I was wandering more down the lines of _let me see him, just once more_. And sliding my gaze along the contours of the room for the second time, I started doubting that my boyfriend, my angel, was here at all. Stronger and stronger, the devil on my shoulder whispered; _he's already in Hell. They took his wings. _

After all, maybe they had. It was a possibility. Maybe my promise to get him back was already in vain- broken.

Scott caught me the second my breathing faltered, bowing my head into his chest and putting his arms around me like a cocoon. "Don't give them the satisfaction," he said into my ear as I gripped his shirt into clumps in my fists and tried desperately to do just that. Another promise gone- I was crying in front of them. "It's gonna be okay." His words were empty, true, but equipped with them and the harsh saying "life's a bitch, get over it", I lifted my face and wiped the tears away. "I'm sorry," I apologised, and he smiled a sad smile, one that conveyed way more concern for me and our current predicament than he ever meant to show.

The Archangel in crimson marched towards us, his face a splatter of irritation. "You," he griped, gesticulating briefly at me. "You're wanted over here." Scott insisted he come too in a _don't argue with me _tone, and the Archangel shrugged, crooked his finger and ordered us over to the chicken wire. "There," he muttered. Both Scott and I followed his nodding head, and the dust filled air caught in my throat.

Patch.

Unbeknownst to my brain, my legs had already eaten up a few steps closer to him. But before I could reach him, Scott grabbed my shoulder, and pulled me back. "Let me go," I snapped, struggling out of his hold and going so far as to stamp on his toes. Anything to get to Patch. Anything. "I _will_," he snarled in reply. "But listen to me, they want to see how you and lover boy interact. If they know he's attached to you, they'll use you against him. And vice versa." He dropped his grip on me and ran a shaky hand through his hair. "Just watch what you say and do, you don't want them to have that information."

"They probably have it already."

He nodded to this in agreement. "Probably, but on the off chance that they don't, protect yourself."

"Gotcha."

"I'm just back here." He backed away, still near enough to intervene if necessary, but far enough to give Patch and I privacy.

I was by the wire wall in the blink of a quick eye, sticking my fingers through the loops and gripping them tightly. I ran my eyes along him, a quick and hungry inspection. He was still in one piece! I almost whooped. His silky hair, his defined jaw, straight nose, muscled arms, hard chest and stomach, legs- everything was there.

"Patch," I whispered.

He stared at me with an unreadable fire in his black eyes. Was it disappointment? I felt sick. He maintained a distance from the wire and my reaching fingers, arms crossed firmly over his chest. "Are you okay?" I wondered lamely. Strange how when you think of a situation, a million questions come to mind, but when you are in the middle of it, you're left speechless. That's exactly how I was then, mouth opening and closing like a beached fish as I attempted to break down the words flung at me through his gaze.

Patch's jaw clenched. His eyes flickered to his left, settling first on Scott where he gave a nod of acknowledgment, and then moved on to the Archangels. I noticed tension suddenly take hold of every crevice of his being, but I doubted they would- they didn't know him like I did, no one did. He was angry. Very, very angry.

But why wouldn't he come over? Did he not realise this could be the last time we saw each other? Better yet, why was he still behind this flimsy chicken coop stuff?

"Patch," I repeated, my tone approaching the classification of begging as wide eyed, I stared as he looked back at me unflinchingly.

Scott coughed from somewhere to the back of us, subtly reminding me of what he had told me earlier. I didn't want to listen though, or take notice of the rules, they were the very last thing on my mind. All I wanted was for Patch to say something. To Hell (literally) with not showing the Archangels my love for him, they'd know sooner or later. "Say something," I pleaded.

I don't know what it was, maybe it was prompted by Scott's second bark of warning, or possibly the Archangel's sneer as he called out "two minutes" to us, or maybe it was because of the way I felt my eyes well with tears as they locked with his, but abruptly, the ice encasing Patch's joints melted, and he flashed to a standstill before me.

The smooth skinned fingers of one of his hands covered mine through the gaps of the wiring. "Angel," he spoke quietly, the usual fire and passion which I loved in his voice dwindled down to almost nothing. "Why did you come?" I sucked in a sharp breath at the feel of his skin- it had been a mere few hours, but following a scare in which you believed that you would never see your love again, it was like a refreshing glass of water after a long run in the desert. "I had to come," I answered back a moment later, my voice wobbling with pent up emotion. "You know I had to."

"I know," he sighed wistfully, flexing his fingers around mine. "But you have to go again."

I ignored this, jaw clicking as I was almost annoyed by his request. "No," I replied firmly. "I'm not going yet. Not without you." I shuffled closer, pointlessly trying to squirm through the wire to catch hold of the body heat he was always so generous with. "I'm confused," I murmured, sweeping the floor with my gaze before bringing it back to his again. "Patch, I'm scared."

His entire expression softened. He lifted a hand and brought it close to my face, as if he were going to touch my cheek, but dropped it back to his side. "Stupid chicken wire," I grumbled, a watery laugh breaking my chest, but it sounded more like a suffocated sob.

"Don't be scared, okay?" Patch removed his hand from mine, and fearfully seeking it back, I snatched onto a higher point closer to his chest. With a distressed smile on his face, he gently tugged three of my fingers completely through one of the loops and brought his lips to it. "Everything is going to be okay." He kissed each of my fingertips softly, sweetly, something he normally wouldn't do. The action finally drew the tears from my eyes, and I resorted to begging once more.

"No, it won't," I insisted, pathetically sniffling up at him. "Not if they take you away. Not ever again."

"I promised you I'd fight them," Patch said levelly. "I keep my promises."

"But that doesn't guarantee anything!"

He grabbed my quivering fingers into his palm again, kissed them softly and whispered "Angel, shh," against my skin. I couldn't though, the childish act of weeping had gripped my system in a chokehold. This grasp on me increased greatly when the Archangel began thundering over to us, a sadistically happy smile on his mature face at the prospect of splitting the young couple up.

"I have something for you," Patch said, an urgent hint to his voice. He shoved his free hand in his pocket, and withdrew a ring- different from my own which he had owned for a brief period before. White gold with a little circular diamond nestled in the middle. "I wanted to give it to you this morning," he continued, throwing the encroaching Archangel a glare of hatred. "But better late than never, right?" His eyes met mine again, and I noticed that I had stopped breathing. Awkwardly, because the gaps in the wire were so slim, he flipped my hand over. "Take this and remember me. It's another promise," he breathed, and then kissed the sparkling diamond atop. He placed it in my fingers, curled them around it and enveloped my fist with his hand.

The Archangel reached towards me.

Patch raked in a sparse intake of air. "I don't know what they'll do, Angel," he confessed, shaking his head as if chucking away unpleasant thoughts. "But fight. Fight with everything in you, and escape. You're a strong girl, you'll make it."

"I know, but Patch-"

The Archangel interrupted. "Times up," he said with a huge, malicious smirk. "Cipriano is leaving, and you, Miss, well.." His hand found its way to my forearm, but before he could force me anywhere, Patch and Scott both ground out their damnations. I jumped, startled, and ripped my arm from his.

"Patch, I-I can't, I don't know-" My voice trailed off. The salt water made my cheeks feel like cardboard. "Why can't you just break through this stupid stuff," I kicked the wire, "and we can run? Me, you and Scott."

"Don't you see, Angel?" Patch looked at the Archangel with cold determination, and then relocked his eyes with mine. "They're threatening me with you."

"What?"

"You need to go," he muttered to me, upper lip curling at the stupid, stupid, stupid Archangel. "You need to go now."

"What?" I yelped afresh, pupils enlarging as a shot of panic laced through my innards. Not now, no, not now. I just found him. Scott scrambled to my side, shoving away the intruder and throwing an arm around my waist. "Nora," he hissed into my ear. "If we're getting out of here tonight, we need to go now, okay?"

"Patch." Spinning and gripping the wire tightly, I looked to him for guidance, and he stepped back to my face. Speaking low enough that the words were meant only for me, he softly whispered, "I change my mind, Angel, don't move on. I'll get out. I'll find you."

"Promise?"

A conflicted expression flitted across his features, but quickly, he nodded. "I promise. Now go."

"I love you, Patch."

Scott tore me from the sweat that was gluing my fingers to the ductile wire. We stumbled to the entrance. I hid in his shoulder, clamping a hand over my free ear to muffle the sounds of the group of Archangels who had made their way inside to "transport Cipriano", as I had heard them put it. Again, I was crying, and Scott's feverish attempts to shush me fell on dead ears.

And then there was silence. Complete and utter silence.

"Did we make it?" I asked my friend, and he nodded jerkily in response. "We made it, Grey," he said, a whistle in his voice. I paused our walking to snake my arms around his back and crush him to my chest, willing all of my _thank you_'s to be felt through the touch.

He chuckled. "I always knew I was irresistible-"

Silencing him instantaneously, a shadow fell over us both. Long, dark and sent shivers racing up my spinal chord.

"Well, well, well," the suited Archangel materialised in front of Scott, his face a mask of pure disgust. "What do we have here?" A grumble of noise rumbled through the small gathering of Angels behind him. "Do we have ourselves two new pets?" His grimace twisted into a hateful kind of grin, displaying to us all a set of pearly, pearly whites.

Scott stiffened. We both recognised and processed the threat.

However before we could begin negotiations or departures, from our rear, two seemingly ghostlike angels snatched us up, banging my head off the bark of a tree in doing so, and bundled us back into another pitch black truck. The monster was coaxed to life almost the second we were inside. I screamed, howled and rapped against the walls while Scott pounded, thumped and hammered into the them, but even with unreal Nephilim strength to aid us, the unnatural metal held strong.

"Scott." Over an hour into this, I tugged on his sleeve, willing him to calm down for a moment so that we could decipher tactics, and so that the hopelessness of the situation wasn't pushed in my face with every failed punch or kick of escape. "Scott, please."

Eventually, he collapsed in a ball on the floor next to me. "I'm sorry," he gasped, gazing up at me with a heavily apologetic stare. "I can't do it."

"It's okay, we'll escape somehow."

"Yeah."

Would we? I had only said it to soothe him- he was tiring out pretty fast and if we were going with the fight or flight instinct, we'd be fleeing the second the door was open. He'd need his energy.

We were quiet for a moment, both toying around with various thought trails until one became so prominent in my chest that I had to spill it out. "What do you think they're going to do to us?" I waggled my head, the sentence tasted bad on my tongue. "_With _us?"

"I have absolutely no idea." Scott stretched for my hand, rubbed his thumb over the back of it comfortingly. "But I'll get us out of this," he assured me. Following a soft, appreciative smile at this (I didn't believe even he could save us if the Archangel's really wanted us for something- to kill us, to sell us, to use us, whatever it may be), I tucked my knees into my chest, placed my empty hand on top and pressed my forehead hard into it.

The glittery diamond of my new ring created a slight indentation on my skin.

_Don't move on_, I whispered in my mind. _I'll get out. I'll find you._

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><p><strong>You like? Go on, leave me a <em>review<em>, it's the final chapter ;) What did you think of this chapter? Of Scott? What do you think'll happen in the sequel? **

**I'm curious to see all of your guesses! :)**

**Again, I'm so grateful for all of your support for this story, so so appreciative. Thank you one million time overs.**

**HAPPY NEW YEARS! xxxx :) Goodbye! x**


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